Once upon a time
by Kirkis
Summary: Set in the summer before fifth year. The discovery of a seemingly normal Muggle book in the attic of the Burrow leads to a wild adventure for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny.
1. Boredom at the Burrow

_Harry Potter books, and all characters therein are belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001/2002 Warner bros. In short, they aren't mine, so please don't sue.   
**kkisblpeen@aol.com   
**   
  
A/N - I originally wanted the title to be the Latin translation of "Once upon a time", but in asking on Sugar Quill's Forum about the translation (I know nothing about Latin) I was told the phrase could be translated into one Latin word, "Olim" I decided to leave the title in English instead. I'd also like to thank my wonderfully patient Beta-Reader, Seldes Katne, who puts up with my horrible grammar._

**Once upon a time**   
_By Kirkis_   
**Chapter one: Boredom at the Burrow**

**At the Burrow**

There always seemed to be something going on at the Burrow during summer holiday. Invited by Ginny, Hermione had come to stay for two weeks before the start of school. The fact that she'd come to the Burrow instead of heading off to Bulgaria pleased Ron of course, though he tried not to let it show. The first few days they'd taken advantage of some really gorgeous weather and spent most of the time outdoors. But the last two days weren't so gorgeous. Rain poured down in sheets over the Burrow, leaving them with little to do.   
  
Harry had arrived the same day it started raining, and they'd spent the entire day playing this game or that. They kept mostly to Ron's bedroom, but spent a long time playing Gobstones in the living room after dinner. The next day, Hermione felt she should spend a little time with Ginny, as she was technically Ginny's guest. Ron and Harry didn't seem to mind, and decided they would busy themselves by adding to the list of ways to get Malfoy expelled that they'd started the summer after their first year. So Hermione had been in Ginny's room for most of the morning, but all they'd done so far was read. Ginny, unlike Hermione, usually got bored with reading after a few hours.   
  
Ginny snapped her book shut and made a frustrated sigh. "I'll die of boredom, I'm sure of it!" she muttered, turning to look out the rain-speckled window. She sighed again. "What do you usually do when it rains?" she asked, turning to look at Hermione.   
  
"Read mostly," replied Hermione, marking her place and setting aside her history book. "But I've read just about every book at home ten times at least."   
  
Ginny lay back on the bed, her head thumping gently on the wall behind her. She let it rest there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. A smile suddenly popped onto her face, and she propped herself up on her elbows and spoke.   
  
"Dad keeps some old book up in the attic! I bet there are some you haven't read before," she said enthusiastically. She hopped up off her bed and stepped across the room to Hermione's camp bed. D'you want to have a look?" asked Ginny, lightly jerking her head toward the door.   
  
"Okay, but what about the Ghoul?" said Hermione, standing. Ginny smiled and headed toward the door.   
  
"Oh, he'll have to be dealt with," she said as they headed down the stairs to the second landing. "Not by us, mind you." Ginny knocked briskly on a door bearing a small wooden sign that said "Percy's Room".   
  
"What is it, I asked not-" came a voice from behind the door. Ginny interrupted.   
  
"It's me, Percy. Can you come to the door?" she said loudly. A few seconds later the door opened and Percy appeared, looking rather perturbed.   
  
"Ginny, I'm working," he started, then caught sight of Hermione. "Oh, hello, Hermione."   
  
"Percy, Hermione and I want to look at some of those old books Dad keeps in the attic, can you lock up the ghoul?" Ginny asked. Percy's perturbed look was back.   
  
"Can't you get Mum or Dad to do it? I'm far too busy," he said irritably.   
  
"Oh yes, international ban on Gutwrenches Weedkiller," said Ginny sarcastically.   
  
"It may sound-"   
  
"Dad's as busy as you are-"   
  
"-but it's a very real threat-"   
  
"-and Mum will just say we have no business snooping around up there," Ginny shouted over Percy. He sniffed once and looked down at her importantly.   
  
"Well, she'd be right. You _don't_ need to be snooping around up there. Now, I'll ask you not to interrupt me anymore." With that, Percy shut the door stiffly.   
  
"**Fine!**" Ginny shouted, slamming her fist against his door so hard the wooden "Percy's Room" sign came loose on one side. "We'll just go up there and **wrestle** the ghoul into the trunk! And when we've got black eyes and bloodied lips, you can have _yourself_ to thank!" Ginny turned and huffed up the stairs.   
  
"It's all right, Ginny. I'd rather not wrestle a ghoul," said Hermione.   
  
"We're not going to," said Ginny passing straight by her bedroom door and continuing up the stairs. "Fred and George aren't underage Wizards anymore," she added, stopping in front of a door with another wooden sign. This one said Fred and George's Room, beneath it, carved in the wooden sign was "(Gred and Forge's Room)" just below that was yet another sign, tacked onto the door. This one was parchment, and it read.

**Beware of everything;   
enter at your own risk!   
(we aren't kidding this time!)**

As Ginny raised her hand to knock, the walls shook with a deep boom from behind the door. Dust and tiny bits of plaster sprinkled down over them. Ginny rapped quickly on the door.   
  
"Fred! George! Are you two all right?" she said through the door. She pressed her ear against the door to listen. Through the door, Hermione could hear one or the other twin talking in a hushed, frantic voice.   
  
"Clean it up, clean it up!" said one twin. A moment later the door opened just wide enough for one twin to fit his blackened face into.   
  
"Morning, Ginny, morning, Hermione!" chortled Fred or George; Hermione never could tell them apart though Ginny always said they didn't look much alike.   
  
"Fred, what happened?" Ginny said, crouching to try and see under Fred's head. He shifted his body so that he completely covered the small crack in the doorway.   
  
"Nothing, just a little too much- well, don't worry about it," he said brightly. Behind the door, George had gone into a coughing fit. Fred pulled his head back away from the door to look in on his twin and Ginny and Hermione caught a glimpse of soot-covered walls inside the twins' bedroom. Ginny and Hermione exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes.   
  
"Well, it wasn't anything, so-"   
  
"Fred," Ginny interrupted, "Hermione and I want to go have a look at some of Dad's old books in the attic. Can you lock up the ghoul for us?" asked Ginny.   
  
"Can't you get Percy- oh yeah," Fred interrupted himself with a glum expression. He ducked his head back inside the room. "You hear?" he said to George, who must've nodded because a moment later, Fred stepped through the door, making sure to pull it closed close behind him.   
  
"Dunno why you'd want to look at _Dad's_ old books. They're all about Muggles. Uncle Frank's books are better. Mind you, me and George kept the best ones," he said as they headed up the stairs toward the top landing. Hermione wondered what kind of books Fred and George would count as "the best." She decided she'd rather not know.   
  
Hermione had only known of one door on the top landing: the door to Ron's bedroom. She'd never noticed an attic door or entrance up there, but then, she hadn't paid much attention to the top floor landing. The attic at her home was only accessible by way of a small two-foot square panel that could be slid out of the way. She knew some attics had hideaway stairs that could be pulled down to gain access. So when she reached the top landing, she immediately started to search the ceiling, but there found no movable panel, no signs of hideaway stairs, or any other signs that there was a way to get into the attic. _Maybe it's in Ron's room,_ she thought. But no sooner had she gotten the thought out than Fred had pulled out his wand and poked a dark knot in the panel beside Ron's bedroom door.   
  
The panel to the immediate right of Ron's door popped open. It was barely big enough for a person to slip through and it was too low for someone like Ron or Percy to fit through. At first, even after so much time in the Wizarding world, Hermione wondered how they were supposed to fit through it. Then it dawned on her, they'd just use an Enlargement Charm.   
  
"You know, I think Ginny kept a few of _Mum's_ best books," said Fred, waggling his eyebrows. Just then, Ron's bedroom door opened.   
  
"I did _not_, Fred!" said Ginny, going a deep shade of scarlet. She hit Fred lightly on the arm, but her eyes were focused somewhere inside Ron's bedroom.   
  
"What's up? Going up in the attic for something?" asked Ron. Ginny nodded and the color started to fade from her face. Harry appeared behind Ron.   
  
"Yeah, Hermione and I wanted to have a look at some of Dad's old books," said Ginny, her eyes wandered behind Ron once or twice.   
  
Ron turned excitedly toward Harry. "Oh yeah, Uncle Frank kept some old spellbooks up there too, we were never allowed to read them," said Ron. "Want to go?"   
  
Harry shrugged. "Okay," he said, tossing down a deck of exploding snap cards which exploded all over Ron's floor.   
  
"Right," said Fred. "Autus" he said, the open panel wiggled and squirmed until it was the size of Ron's bedroom door. Hermione took a look inside. There was a rickety looking staircase that faded into darkness. With Fred in lead, they ascended the steps into the pitch black attic.

**Where it all begins…**

After Fred had locked away the ghoul and they'd taken the thick black covers off the windows, Hermione got her first glimpse at the largest room in the Burrow. She had been around the Burrow enough to have a relative idea of how big in area it was. But the attic looked three times as big as the rest of the Burrow. It too, was probably enlarged, though even for an enlargement, this was something. It was easily sixty or sixty-five feet wide and probably just as long. And filled with the greatest assortment of things Hermione had ever seen.   
  
Aside from the trunks that stood in stacks here and there, there were Muggle objects hanging off the rafters; a bike tire, an old hand saw, a pair of trainers. In the center of the room, hovering nearly a foot in the air, was a giant globe. There was some half broken old furniture scattered here and there. Against the far wall was a deluxe wardrobe that looked big enough to fit a Hogwarts four-poster bed inside. In one corner stood a massive cauldron filled with what looked like chicken feathers.   
  
And then there were the books…   
  
A long bookcase took up one entire wall. Though inclined forward at over a forty-five degree angle, most of the books were still sitting on the shelves. Stacks of books also lay here and there. Before heading back downstairs, Fred had kicked open a few trunks filled with dusty old books that had once belonged to the Weasleys' Uncle Frank. Hermione contented herself to looking through a few of the stacks, while Ron and Harry sifted through one of the trunks Fred had opened.   
  
The Hogwarts Library had thousands of books, mostly non-fiction, though they did have a modest fiction section. But Hermione had never heard of any of these titles. _"The Potion-maker's Cauldron, Dragonheart: the story of Dregda Drindle,"_ Hermione read a few titles as she sorted them into piles; books she wanted to read, and books that looked less interesting or that she'd already read. "_Charmed Summer_?" said Hermione, reading the title of a ratty old softcover.   
  
"That's one of Mum's old romance books," said Ginny, pointing at the tattered cover. "I was never allowed to read them," she added, going a little pink. Hermione got the idea that Ginny knew _why_ she wasn't allowed to read them. Ginny reached into the trunk and pulled out another book, possibly to get off the subject of her Mum's old romance books.   
  
"What's this one, Hermione?" asked Ginny, brandishing a dusty hardcover book. "_The Tale of Robin Hood: Thief, Knave, Hero_," she read aloud. Hermione reached up to give the book a closer look. It was an old Muggle story, and Hermione wondered why it was among all these wizard novels. She took the book and wiped off some of the dust. On the cover was a familiar scene of a man in a green woodland outfit, drawing back a bow to shoot at a target.   
  
"It's a Muggle story, isn't it?" asked Ginny. Hermione nodded distractedly, and opened the book. She caught sight of a single Latin word on the title page, "_Olim_" but she only saw it for a split second. The next moment, a bright light swelled from the center of the book, which seemed to be making a loud sucking noise. Before Hermione knew it, the entire attic seemed to pitch toward the book. She fought to keep her balance but she felt like the floor she was sitting on had tilted almost perpendicular to the book. With an almighty lurch, Hermione lost her balance and fell head first into the book.

** * * ***

Ginny shrieked as soon as she saw the blinding light jump out of the book. Hermione's body seemed to be stretching into the book. Ginny took a step toward her just as Hermione's heels zipped into the book. It fell with a thud on the floor, closed once more. With little thought, Ginny picked up the book and opened it. The blinding light jumped out at her and the whole floor lurched. Ginny was thrown off balance and she tumbled forward, into the book.

** * * ***

Ron was already on his feet by the time Ginny picked up the book.   
  
"Ginny!" he shouted, closing the distance between them in almost a single step. She'd already opened the book and was starting to be pulled in. Ron grabbed her around the waist, but a split second later he felt the floor tilt violently toward the book. With his arms wrapped around Ginny, there was no way he could keep on his feet. He fell forward, trailing Ginny into the book.

*** * ***

The book landed hard on the floor, snapping shut ominously. Harry stood for a second or two wondering if he should follow. Or would it be a better idea to go get Mrs. Weasley.   
  
_No,_ he thought, _If they're in danger, I need to help them as soon as possible._ He picked up the book and held it in his hands for a second. Then he got an idea. He went back toward the staircase that led back down to the top landing of the Burrow. The floor was clear there so when the book fell, it would be easy to find. He set the book on the floor in plain view, took a deep breath and opened it. He saw the blinding white light pour out of the book toward him. He felt the floor jerk toward the book and offered no resistance against it. Head first, he tumbled into the book.   
  
To be continued…


	2. The tale of Robin Hood

_Harry Potter books, and all characters therein are belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001/2002 Warner bros. In short, they aren't mine, so please don't sue.   
**kkisblpeen@aol.com   
**   
Special thanks to my awesome Beta-Reader, Seldes Katne, for putting up with my horrible grammar and punctuation._

**Once upon a time**   
_By Kirkis_   
**Chapter Two: The Tale of Robin Hood**

**The Tale of Robin Hood: Thief, Knave, Weasley.**

Harry landed hard on the ground and tumbled forward landing flat on his face. The ground was cold and damp, and it was covered in leaves. He pushed himself up on his arms and, after spitting out a few leaves, took a look around. He was in a forest, well lit and sparsely populated with tall thin trees. There was only a small amount of underbrush, and quite a few trees that had fallen ages ago.   
  
"Ron?" shouted Harry, his voice getting lost somewhere in the sea of tree trunks that seemed to spread out for miles in all directions. "Hermione? Ginny?" Harry scanned the forest for any sign of his friends. A rustling sound from behind him made Harry jump. He spun around to find Ron walking oddly out from behind some of the underbrush.   
  
"Oi!" said Ron distractedly, tugging at the crotch of what looked like a pair of green tights. Harry had to fight not to laugh.   
  
"What's with these tights?" said Ron, still tugging mercilessly at the tights. This time Harry couldn't help but laugh. Ron looked up indignantly. "What's so funny?! _You're_ wearing them too!" he snapped. Harry stopped laughing long enough to glance down at his own legs, and was surprised to find that Ron was right. A pair of bright green tights had found their way onto Harry's legs. Not only that, he wasn't wearing his Weasley jumper anymore. Instead he was wearing a green poncho-like cloak. He looked back up at Ron, perplexed.   
  
"Where are we, anyway? Never seen this place before in my life," said Ron, panning his gaze around the sea of trees. "You think this could be… Voldemort's doing?" asked Ron, suppressing a shiver. Harry had been grateful that both his friends and the rest of the Weasleys were now calling Voldemort by his proper name, though every Weasley flinched at the word. Harry shook his head. He had no clue where Hermione and Ginny were either, or whether this was part of a plan Voldemort had cooked up. But he knew that Hermione and Ginny had been sucked into the book first and second, so they had to be somewhere around.   
  
"We should look for Hermione and Ginny," said Harry. "We should probably-"   
  
"Shh!" hissed Ron, looking off into the trees. "I hear something coming." Ron turned his head so his ear was facing the direction the sound was coming from. "Sounds like drums or something," he muttered.   
  
_It does sound like drums,_ Harry thought. A few seconds later Harry caught a flash of red amid the sea of green. Another second, another bit of red. The sound was growing louder and less muffled as whatever it was approached. Through an open spot in the trees, Harry caught sight of what they were hearing. Four horsemen, all dressed in mail and red coats, were riding toward them. Harry quickly plunged his hand into green poncho for his wand, only to find that it wasn't there.   
  
"My wand's gone," he hissed to Ron, who immediately patted himself down.   
  
"Mine too," said Ron. The horses were getting closer, and the riders hadn't seen Harry and Ron standing there yet. It wasn't until they burst through the underbrush nearby that they noticed they were there at all.   
  
"Whoa!" the lead rider called, his horse whinnied and skidded to a stop a few feet from Harry and Ron. The rider took a moment to calm his horse before addressing them. "Name yourselves!" he barked. Harry was just about to speak when one of the other riders spoke up.   
  
"Sir, tha's Robin 'ood, it is!" he said pointing a fat finger at Ron.   
  
"Robin who?" asked Ron. He didn't seem to have ever heard of Robin Hood, but the whole thing was just now dawning on Harry. They'd been sucked into a storybook, and now that story was playing before their eyes. They must be playing characters in the story.   
  
"Robin Hood," whispered Harry, turning to Ron. "He's the main character in that book we got sucked into. Ron, I think the book thinks _you're_ Robin Hood!" he finished.   
  
"What d'you mean, the _book_ thinks?!" hissed Ron. Harry shook his head quickly as the lead rider began to speak again.   
  
"Robin Hood, eh," he muttered stroking his thin black beard. "I knew I'd catch up to you sooner or later. You can't elude the Honorable Sheriff of Nottingham for long, Robin Hood!"   
  
"Ron," whispered Harry, turning back to Ron. "I'd wager Hermione and Ginny are here somewhere in here too, we need to find them and figure out a way out of this book."   
  
"Right, so how do we do that?" asked Ron.   
  
"Didn't you hear me, Knave?!" the sheriff spat indignantly. Harry shot him a glance before turning back to Ron.   
  
"Think we'd best play the character parts for now," Harry suggested, turning his attention back to the Sheriff. But the Sheriff seemed to have had enough of being ignored.   
  
"_Seize them_!" he shouted to his men. The other three riders dismounted and drew their swords at his command.   
  
"Harry, if I'm supposed to play Robin Head or whatever, how do I get out of this?" he asked taking a few steps backward.   
  
"I think running away might work best right now," said Harry, stepping back with Ron. They both turned to run at the same time.   
  
They'd only taken three steps when the entire forest floor seemed to spring upward. All around them men stood waist deep in holes that had been hidden under the leaves before. Men with bows all pointed in on the four riders. Men who were all wearing green suits. _The Merry Men,_ thought Harry.   
  
"Great plan, Robin!" shouted a slim young man near the front. Harry wasn't sure who he was, but it was clear that he was someone of importance within the Merry Men.   
  
Ron was still gawping about at the men who'd suddenly popped up out of nowhere. Harry nudged him in the side.   
  
"Yeah, great plan, Robin!" he said. Ron shot a thoroughly confused and worried look at Harry.   
  
"But, I'm not-" he started to whisper in protest.   
  
"Just play the part, we still need to find Hermione and Ginny," Harry interrupted in a whisper. Ron didn't seem to like the idea much, but he nodded to the slim man. Just then, Harry became aware of another sound. A low rumbling, much deeper than the one they'd heard earlier.   
  
"Right on schedule," said the slim man. Harry looked out into the forest and saw a large wagon headed their way. It was completely enclosed, and had to be big enough to ten men to fit in easily. It looked like the storybook's version of an armored car. The Merry Men ran forward drawing back their bows. The slim man ordered the diver to stop and pay the "Sherwood highway tax".   
  
"Robin Hood, Nottingham will not tolerate this mockery of authority and of the Crown. Your time will come!" said the Sheriff. The wagonload of gold was heading off toward Robin Hood's hideout, and as a means of dealing with the Sheriff and his men, they decided embarrassment was better than death. The Sheriff and his men were to walk back to Nottingham, bound at the wrists and stripped of all clothing but their undergarments.   
  
The Merry Men, however, had seven new horses, taken from the Sheriff and his men. Harry and Ron, neither of whom had ever ridden a horse before, were a little worried about it. But as it turned out, riding a horse was quite easy, or perhaps it just felt easier to Harry because he'd already mastered riding a Hippogriff.   
  
The Merry Men, true to their name, were quite merry riding back to Robin's hideout in Sherwood Forest. The slim man turned out to be Will Scarlet. Ron was recognized by all the Merry Men as Robin Hood and Harry as Little John. The thought occurred to Harry that Little John was supposed to be very big, hence the humor in calling him "Little" but Harry actually _was_ little.   
  
Unfortunately, Will didn't have a clue who or where Hermione and Ginny were. He didn't seem too interested in talking about women at the moment. He was more interested in talking about how much gold must be in that wagon. Harry and Ron ended up explaining Ron's odd behavior on the fact that he'd fictitiously hit his head. They left Will chattering with another Merry Man by the name of Bull.   
  
"We might find Hermione and Ginny at the hideout," said Harry, reassuringly.   
  
"Maybe," said Ron, distracted. "Just wish we could've found our wands. Do you really think it could be a side affect of the book?" he asked. Harry shrugged. He didn't know why Ron kept asking him this. They'd looked for nearly a half-hour where they'd both landed. They even had the Merry Men looking, but they hadn't turned up anything.   
  
"You said you've ready this story before, right?" asked Ron.   
  
"I overheard it being read, and only once; Dudley wasn't keen on it as the prince gets robbed blind," Harry answered. Ron's expression darkened. He'd obviously hoped Harry knew the story well. Harry, feeling the need to help Ron out as much as possible, told what he knew.   
  
"I don't remember it all, I just remember little pieces. There's a banquet that Robin has to crash. Then there's an Archery tournament he wins, and then he goes to rescue Maid Marion, and they live happily ever after," Harry summarized. He could almost see the wheels turning in Ron's head as they rode casually through the darkening forest.   
  
"Crashing a Banquet I can handle," said Ron, turning his head toward Harry, "but an Archery tournament? I've never used a bow in my life! How am I supposed to win an Archery tournament?" asked Ron, looking like he'd just been condemned.   
  
Harry shrugged. "Practice?" he offered. Ron didn't look amused.   
  
"Can't I just skip the Archery Tournament and rescue Lady Marion when I crash the banquet?"   
  
"Maybe we'll know more when we find Hermione and Ginny. I expect Hermione probably knows the story by heart," said Harry. Ron made the first smile since they'd been sucked into the book. Harry spent the rest of the trip telling Ron as many small details and character nuances about Robin Hood as he could remember. Ron, who didn't seem too keen on playing the part, thought the story itself sounded interesting ("for a Muggle story."). They hadn't been that engrossed with discussing the story, and it wasn't because dusk was falling over the forest. They'd come up on the hideout and gotten right on top of it before either of them noticed it.   
  
And there was a lot to notice.   
  
The Hideout was practically a town in the trees. Well over a dozen round huts were built onto the trees, some four or five stories up and all connected by a series of wooden catwalks. On the ground there were dozens more, most with smoke puffing cheerily out of the chimneys. Torches were lit here and there and people were moving about between them. All of it was set low in a gully so that it wasn't visible until you got right on top of it. Harry wondered why they also hadn't smelled the food cooking until they were within sight of it.   
  
"Oi, Will?" yelled Ron, from the edge of the bank overlooking the hideout. Will, who was already down in the gully, turned back toward them. "This is some hideout," said Ron, as he and Harry stated making their way carefully down the steep embankment. Will shook his head.   
  
"You really did hit your head hard, Robin!" he said. He looked hopefully at Ron for a moment, before he turned and waved his hand toward the mass of huts. "Welcome to Sherwood Village."   
  
_To be continued…_


	3. Becoming Robin

Once upon a time - Chapter Three: Becoming Robin 

_Harry Potter books, and all characters therein are belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001/2002 Warner bros. In short, they aren't mine, so please don't sue.   
**kkisblpeen@aol.com   
**_

**Once upon a time**   
_By Kirkis_   
**Chapter three: Becoming Robin**

**Sherwood**

"Wake up!" shouted Harry. Ron sat bolt upright tossing his head from side to side.   
  
"Wha- where are we-" he muttered, taking a look around. A slow morbid realization waxed over his face. "I thought it was just a dream." He smothered a yawn with one hand and threw off his blanket.   
  
"Breakfast will be ready soon," said Harry, as Ron foraged through the trunks and drawers in the hut. "If it's anything like dinner last night, we definitely don't want to miss it." He turned and walked back out onto the front balcony and leaned on the railing, looking down on Sherwood Village. It was amazing to Harry that anyone could've built such a place without magic, or modern Muggle technology.   
  
Harry let out a sigh and wondered where his wand had gone. He hoped that he was right; that its absence was merely a side affect of being in the book. Provided, that is, that the book wasn't part of a plan by Voldemort to get to him. He wasn't quite sure if he and Ron could get through the story without any magic. Harry suddenly felt the need to laugh. He had never noticed when magic had become such an integral part of his life. His eyes wandered to the people below. Will had told them everyone there was wanted for not being able to pay the outrageous taxes Sir Guy of Gisbourne had levied against the commoners. They were all hiding in Sherwood Village.   
  
It was little surprise to Harry. Wizards and Witches kept their world hidden from Muggles. Harry had known about the Wizarding world since his eleventh birthday, when a half-giant named Hagrid had rescued him from his Aunt and Uncle. It had been four years, but somehow it seemed like a lifetime already.   
  
"You think Will could find me a pair of trousers?" asked Ron stepping out of the hut and joining Harry on the balcony.   
  
"You could ask, but I wouldn't get my hopes up," Harry replied.   
  
They headed down to the large meeting hall (which was basically an extra large hut) in the center of the village. The smell wafting out of the nearby kitchen hut filled the air and strengthened their appetites. The thought occurred to Harry has they headed into the meeting hall that all the Sheriff had to do was come out here in the morning and the smell would probably lead him right to the place.   
  
"Well, Robin," said Will the moment Ron had set his tankard down. He dropped into the seat beside Ron and went on. "Now that you've eaten, we need to cook up a plan for tonight."   
  
"Tonight, right," muttered Ron, casting a worried glance in Harry's direction. Harry only shrugged, leaving Ron to turn back to Will in helpless confusion.   
  
"Hit your head good," said Will. He shook his head but to Ron and Harry's relief, he explained. "Tonight, the Prince's Banquet, the one Sir Guy is holding," he said, obviously trying to jog Robin's memory. "We need to bust it up or something, need a plan, Robin. Got to go, Lady Marion will be there," he teased, nudging Ron in the side.   
  
Ron turned sharply toward Harry at this. "Har- I mean, Little John. Hermione and Ginny got sucked in too, what if one of them is playing Maid Marion?" said Ron.   
  
"Could be. She's the only female part I can remember, so it would only account for one of them," replied Harry. Will leaned in closer to them looking completely confused.   
  
"What are you two talking about? You didn't hit your head too, did you, Little John?" he asked.   
  
"No, it's nothing," Harry said dismissively. "So, have any suggestions for tonight?" he asked Will. The slack-jawed expression on Will's face wasn't very reassuring.   
  
"Robin always comes up with the plans," he muttered, shaking his head. "I don't have a clue how to plan stuff like that."   
  
Harry glanced over at Ron, who looked almost as worried as Will, if not more. Harry was good with strategy, though he knew Ron was better. No one had ever beaten Ron at Wizard's Chess before. "Do we know the layout of Nottingham castle?" he asked. As if he'd flicked a switch, Ron's face relaxed ever so slightly. They'd been through scrapes before and this was not much different. Though Harry hoped he wouldn't find Voldemort at the end of this adventure.   
  
The agreed upon plan followed canon as closely Harry could remember. He found himself wishing Hermione was with them. She probably knew the entire story, instead of just bits and pieces like Harry.   
  
The first step was to sneak into the castle. They'd go in three teams, fifteen or so Merry Men would stay outside the castle and make sure everyone could get away quickly. Two teams would go into the castle itself, one team of ten men and another of seven. The team of ten would secure an escape route for the other team. The team of seven, which would include Ron, Harry and Will, would make an appearance at the Banquet.   
  
Ron, Harry and Will, as well as the five other men, would force their way into the dining hall and announce that they did not recognize the authority of Sir Guy, or of Prince John. The only authority they would be recognizing would be that of King Richard. Harry remembered that as an act of defiance, Robin was supposed to bring a slain deer to the feast. It was Illegal to kill game animals in the Prince's forest.   
  
As the time to leave for Nottingham grew nearer, Harry and Ron were both starting to get nervous. Just like before important Quidditch matches, Harry's appetite abandoned him. Ron's apparently had too, because he spent the better part of lunch pushing his food around on his plate.   
  
In no time at all, it was time to leave for Nottingham Castle. And in what seemed like even less time they were crossing a stone bridge that led into the Town of Nottingham.

**Lady Marion**

Hermione paced back and forth, glancing every now and then toward the door. Nearly a day had passed since she'd been sucked into the old Robin Hood storybook they found in the attic of the Burrow. After being pulled into the book, Hermione landed in a soft, squashy bed in a rather luxurious, though medieval, bedchamber. Ginny hadn't been as lucky; she'd landed in the floor.   
  
_What's taking her so long?_ Hermione thought, glancing again at the thick oak door. She hoped Ron and Harry had had enough sense to go fetch Mr. Weasley and not try to save her and Ginny by themselves. Part of her hoped, that is. Another part of her knew better. She'd known Harry Potter and Ron Weasley since her first year, and in that time, she'd never known either of them to be sensible. Knowing that, she had a sinking feeling that they must be somewhere in the story too. She also assumed, since she and Ginny were playing parts in the story, that Ron and Harry, if they were here, would be playing parts too.   
  
Confined to her room most of the time by the arrogant lord of Nottingham, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, ("it's _unbecoming_ of a Lady to be seen wandering around here and there."), Hermione had to rely on Ginny to gather any information she needed. This presented a problem at the moment, as Ginny had been gone for almost three hours and Hermione, who had initially been frustrated that Ginny hadn't returned yet, was now starting to worry.   
  
Hermione groaned angrily. _If she's not back in another ten minutes, I'm going to look for her, unbecoming or not!_ she thought, plopping down into a fancy chair that stood in front of the vanity. She glared at her reflection in the mirror, growing even more frustrated. Even as Marion, one of the great fictional Heroines, she still couldn't escape her bushy hair.   
  
She made a grimace and turned her head slightly to see herself at an angle. She'd definitely have to do _something_ with her hair before the banquet tonight. She wasn't really vain, and she wasn't trying to impress anyone. She just felt it strange to be playing Marion and not put forth some effort to look beautiful. _If only I could use magic,_ she thought with a sigh, pulling her hair up behind her head and holding it there with one hand.   
  
The door latch clicked, distracting her. She let go of her hair, which flopped back into its usual bushy state. Ginny stepped inside, closed the door behind her, leaned back against the closed door and let out a harassed sigh.   
  
"Everything okay?" asked Hermione. Ginny nodded and pushed off from the door. Hermione was sure part of Ginny's apparent frustration was due to the clothes she had to wear. Her role as Ophelia, Marion's lady-in-waiting, required her to wear rather stiff habit. Ginny wasn't happy about it, saying she felt like she was dressed for a snowball fight.   
  
"Did you find out anything about Ron or Harry?" asked Hermione.   
  
"No, no one's seen a boy with black hair, glasses and a lightning bolt-shaped scar, though a few people told me they knew someone with red hair, freckles and a long nose. But none of them were Ron. And everyone thinks I'm mad going on about 'trying to get out of the book'. No one seems to know they're stuck in a book at all,'" said Ginny, pulling the bothersome habit off her head. Her hair was quite tousled and damp from perspiration. "Do you really think Harry and Ron would follow us in here?" she asked. It had only been the fifth time she'd asked.   
  
"I'm pretty sure Harry would've at least," Hermione said for the fifth time. "Ron would probably follow Harry if Harry got sucked in too," said Hermione. "I ought to do something with my hair, for the banquet, I mean," said Hermione, pulling her hair up again. Ginny nodded and began to work on Hermione's hair.

Crashing the banquet

Breaking into Nottingham Castle was easier than it looked. After scaling a low spot in the wall, they managed to catch a few guards unawares. They decided to have some of the Merry Men put on the Nottingham uniforms and stand guard near the front gate. Ron, Harry, Will and the others proceeded down to the Main Hall, Ron and Harry were carrying between them a small deer that Will had killed on their way to Nottingham. Ron had been cursing since they'd entered the castle that the deer was starting to turn.   
  
Ten minutes later, they reached the great double doors that led into the Main Hall. Harry and Ron exchanged a determined glance, then Ron nodded to the rest of the men, who were waiting to open the door. On his signal, the men pushed open the doors and all eyes inside the Main Hall turned toward them. Music that had been playing only seconds before abruptly stopped and guards on either side of the doorway gripped their weapons nervously.   
  
Ron and Harry stepped forward at almost the same moment, lugging the deer between them. Harry scanned the room for any sign of Hermione or Ginny and found it almost immediately. At the table, two seats to the right of a man Harry assumed was Prince John, sat Hermione.   
  
_She must be playing Maid Marion_, thought Harry. Hermione was dressed in a very formal dress with an intricate lacy pattern that seemed to go all over it. He had just noticed a familiar freckled face surrounded by a stiff looking habit, when Ron suddenly stopped. Harry looked back at Ron. He'd obviously been looking around the room too, and stopped dead when he found Hermione. He was now looking at her with an expression that greatly resembled dread on his face. Hermione, for her part looked a little pink, but was trying to smile pleasantly.   
  
Suddenly, Ron ripped the little hat off his head and thrust it toward Harry.   
  
"Here," he said. "_You_ be Robin!"   
  
"What?" said Harry.   
  
"Here, you take it!" said Ron, pushing the hat toward Harry.   
  
"Ron," Harry started, lowering his end of the deer to the ground to relieve his tired arms. "I can't, I mean, the book picked _you_-"   
  
"C'mon Harry, I don't even know how the story goes, and… I mean, Marion, she's supposed to be, you know, Robin's, you know…" Ron stammered. Harry had to raise an eyebrow.   
  
"What's the meaning of this?!" shouted Sir Guy, who had risen from his seat.   
  
"Let him come," said Prince John.   
  
"It's only Hermione," said Harry, unable to keep from smirking. Ron wasn't pleased. "Just be thankful that _Ginny_ isn't playing Marion," said Harry, turning Ron toward Prince John. Ron looked up and swallowed hard.   
  
"Right," he muttered quietly. Then he set forth again toward the table, dragging the deer as he went. Harry hurried behind him to pick up his end. They (Ron mostly, as Harry was still trying to get hold of his end) hoisted the deer up onto the table.   
  
"You've slain a deer from the Royal forests," said Sir Guy. He looked sharply from the deer to Ron.   
  
"A very bold man, you are, Robin of Locksley," said Prince John, raising a glass to him. Ron obviously was at a loss. Harry had tried to tell him how to act like Robin Hood, but apparently Ron had forgotten. Prince John took a small gulp from his glass and continued. "The Sheriff tells us you fancy yourself the protector of the poor?" he said with a chuckle. Ron's memory must've kicked in, for he responded brilliantly.   
  
"The protector of all those oppressed by Nottingham," he said. "Oh," he added, pointing at the deer. "Better cook it soon, think it's starting to turn."   
  
Hermione stifled a snigger with her hand. Prince John turned to her, looking less impressed than he had to start with.   
  
"I see someone here thinks your exploits are entertaining," he said offhand. "But you'll find, my dear Marion, that people like this brigand have no character. Obviously, breaking into the castle, fouling our meal with rotting, gamy meat, and of course, having no respect for the Crown," said Prince John.   
  
"I have respect for the Crown, when it sits on the right head," said Ron. Hermione smiled again and spoke.   
  
"Well put, Sir Robin," she started. Sir Guy shot a livid look at her. "But take care what you say, for the Crown may well sit on a vengeful brow," she finished. Ron quickly snuffed a snigger.   
  
"I don't fear Nottingham," he said, "and especially not a pathetic little Prince who fancies himself King in the absence of the real one," said Ron, now smiling from ear to ear. Harry was impressed, Ron actually seemed to be taking it seriously. Hermione, however, looked very wary. Ron went on. "I intend to defy Nottingham, my people won't pay anymore ridiculous taxes." Now Harry was starting to think Ron might be laying it on a little thick.   
  
"Er, Robin," he started.   
  
"My, my, you _are_ bold. But you speak treason, Robin Hood, and such a crime carries a heavy penalty," Prince John said, waving his hand.   
  
"**Guards!**" shouted the Sheriff.   
  
Before any of them knew what was happening, the Main Hall filled with armed soldiers, all with swords pointed toward Harry, Ron and Will.   
  
"You never said anything about _guards_!" Ron hissed at Harry as two dozen guards pressed in on them, swords drawn.   
  
_To be continued…_


	4. Banquet Brawl

_Harry Potter books, and all characters therein are belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001/2002 Warner bros. In short, they aren't mine, so please don't sue._   
**kkisblpeen@aol.com   
**

**Once upon a time**   
_By Kirkis_   
**Chapter Four: Banquet Brawl**

**You never said anything about guards!**

"So, Robin Hood," said Sir Guy. "Are you so bold with a dozen swords pointed at your throat? I should thank you for saving us the trouble of looking for you."   
  
"You never _said_ anything about _guards_!" Ron turned to Harry and repeated. Harry completely forgot that he didn't have his wand. His hand closed around the grip of his dagger as a jolt of panic through him. He had no clue how to fight with a dagger, other than to wave it around threateningly. Ron seemed to have thought along the same lines, because he drew his dagger suddenly, then stared at it in some form of horror. Harry pulled out his dagger for lack of a better weapon.   
  
"What are you waiting for, fools?" Sir Guy shouted at the guards. "Attack!"   
  
The circle seemed to constrict upon Ron and Harry immediately. By instinct alone both Harry and Ron shifted around so that they were back to back. As the guards cautiously advanced, Harry made a few broad slashes at the guards with his dagger, which made them jump back. Somewhere near the door, Harry could hear the trademark sounds of a sword fight. Will and the other Merry Men must've engaged some of the guards in an attempt to secure an escape route.   
  
"Stop fooling around!" Sir Guy shouted again from the table. "Attack, I say!"   
  
The ferocity of the guards seemed to increase at this point and the slashes Harry had been making no longer held them off. Behind him, Harry heard the clattering of blades striking each other. Quickly, Harry tossed his head in a backward glance, careful not to take his eyes off his front for too long. Ron seemed to be grappling with one of the guards.   
  
"Look sharp, Robin!" Will shouted from somewhere near the door. A moment later Harry heard the snap from somewhere near the door. He didn't have time to look up or around; a split second later a few shrieks of guards were silenced by an loud crash. Harry chanced another look behind him. One of the huge iron chandeliers that had been suspended from the ceiling had crashed to the ground, landing on a few guards and knocking them cold.   
  
"C'mon, Harry!" Ron shouted and grabbed Harry by the shoulder of his green shirt. They bolted over the fallen chandelier and through the gap it had created in the ranks of guards. There was still no open path to the door, but as far as Harry was concerned, no longer being surrounded by guards was definitely an improvement.   
  
They had just climbed over the broken chandelier when one brazen guard lunged dangerously close to them. Both Harry and Ron jumped back away from each other as the guard thrust his sword forward, sliding between them. Ron reacted immediately, taking his dagger and slamming the bottom of the grip on the back of the guard's head; he flopped forward to the ground. Harry and Ron only had a second to glance at each other before they realized that in jumping back they'd separated themselves too far. Two or three guards were now filling the gap between them, which was getting wider. Harry now found himself having to exchange blows with a guard in front of him. He concentrated on blocking his opponent's attacks, doubting that his two-foot dagger could do much against the guard's thick chain mail.   
  
"Bar the door! Let none escape!" Sir Guy shouted.

* * *

Ron ended up in a duel with another guard. He'd only read about dueling with swords in some of his old _Mad Muggle_ comics. He was more than wary about taking advice from them, mainly because he'd always thought Martin Miggs looked awful silly the way he stood while "fencing." But on the next attack, the guard shoved Ron backward into the dining table, then charged forward with his sword held high over his head. Ron barely got his leg up in time. He shoved with all his might and finally launched the guard backward. Ron righted himself quickly as the guard toppled over and landed on the hard floor, where he sat, shaken for a moment. That gave Ron enough time to think straight.   
  
_It's time to take this seriously_, he thought. He straightened his green shirt and set himself in the standard Wizard's dueling stance; dagger before him, pointed at the enemy, one arm raised to head level behind him, feet apart, knees bent slightly. It seemed to work, too, because when the guard got to his feet, he hesitated before he charged forward again, holding his sword above his shoulder. He started a downward slash toward Ron's shoulder. But Ron easily shifted his dagger and successfully deflected the blow. To his own surprise, he had little trouble blocking the next attack the guard made, a parallel thrust toward his chest.   
  
The guard took a step back, breathing heavily before he lunged forward again, raising his sword above his head. Ron quickly blocked, but the guard held his sword stiffly, keeping it locked with Ron's dagger. Ron was just barely holding him off. It took both arms, one of his legs and the support of the dining table to finally throw the guard off and send him reeling backward. But the effort caused Ron to drop his dagger and though it wasn't as good at defense as a wand was, it was _something_. Ron ducked quickly to recover it, when a feminine hand reached out from under the draped tablecloth and pulled it under the dining table. Ron didn't have time to think who had done it, he needed his dagger. He dropped to his knees and jerked up the tablecloth ready to [verbally] curse whomever grabbed his dagger. He opened his mouth to bark out the first few obscenities that came to mind, but the sight that met him when he looked under the table practically squelched his anger.   
  
"Hermione!" he said, staring. She waved frantically for him to get under the table with her

* * *

Harry dredged up everything he could remember about sword fighting. It wasn't much, just what he'd seen on television watching over Dudley's fat shoulder, and most of _that_ was useless. He ended up trying his best to block the attacks coming his way, and was being pushed backward in the process. In the middle of an intense exchange of blows, Harry nearly tripped over the bottom stair of one of the twisting staircases that led to the balcony above the Dining Hall. He stumbled up onto the stair, still defending each sword slash the guard threw at him.   
  
He was halfway up the staircase when he realized he could no longer see Ron. Had he been caught? He needed to get back down onto the first floor, but every time he tried to drive the guard back down the stairs, he ended up nearly getting skewered. Five more guards had lined up behind the one he was fighting and a few more on the floor below were heading for the staircase on the other end of the balcony.   
  
_One staircase needs to be blocked off. If they corner me up here, they can all surround me, then I'm done for,_ he thought. He timed it as best he could, turning and bolting up the staircase to the top, where a large suit of iron armor stood. Harry pushed hard against it, tilting it toward the staircase and toppling it down onto the advancing guards. He then bolted across the balcony to reach the other staircase before the guards spilled out onto the balcony.   
  
Maybe it had been because he was fighting more recklessly to try and get back down to the floor level, or maybe his luck had just run out. Whatever it was, five steps from the bottom, one of the guards connected, grazing Harry's shoulder. It wasn't deep enough to be life threatening, but it stung, and it hindered his movement. Harry quickly found himself losing ground. Soon he'd reach the top of the staircase, and the end of the line.

* * *

Ron scrambled under the table as Hermione let the tablecloth drape back down to the floor. She was on her hands and knees under the table. Ginny was just behind her to the right, and wearing the most ludicrous outfit Ron had ever seen. It looked like plain white robes, except that there was a stiff looking hood covering her head, and drawn up so snug around her face it reminded him of the Puffskein costume she wore one Hallowe'en when she was five.   
  
Hermione was in a pale pink and very lacy dress. Her hair was pulled up, and though it wasn't as elegant as it had been at the Yule Ball, it still looked good.   
  
"You okay, Ron?" she asked. In the heat of fighting Ron had completely forgotten his earlier anxiety over having to be the hero in a story where Hermione was playing the heroine.   
  
It had only been a month and a half since Ron had ultimately realized he might have some feelings for Hermione other than friendship. But he tried not to think about them. He could never be sure that Hermione felt anything more than simple platonic friendship toward him. Charlie always told him females were like trick questions, saying one thing and meaning something completely different, and that you just had to learn to read them. But Hermione was different.   
  
Hermione wasn't a trick question, by far. Hermione was an enigma. An enigma to beat all others. There was no strategy for figuring out Hermione, and he'd given up long before he ever thought he might _like_ her. The only thing about her that he knew for certain was that she hated losing to him at wizard chess. He couldn't even begin to guess how she really felt about him. Sometimes he'd get the feeling she felt something other than friendship toward him, yet other times, it seemed like she only tolerated him for Harry's sake.   
  
He realized after an afternoon in his bedroom, alone with his thoughts, that his anger toward Harry was further solidified when Hermione defended him. It twisted his stomach every time he thought about it since. But at the same time, it hardened like someone had turned the food in his stomach to stone. Even if Hermione liked Harry that way, Ron _wouldn't_ let that get in the way of his friendship with either of them, especially not with the Dark Lord revived.   
  
The twisting and stone-like feelings that always accompanied these thoughts came in a fast wave over Ron as he gulped his answer to Hermione's question. "Yeah," he said. "You?"   
  
Hermione nodded and went on at a whisper. "Do you know about the story? About how it goes?" she asked.   
  
"Just what Harry's told me, he doesn't remember it all," replied Ron. Hermione glanced back at Ginny. "C'mon Hermione," Ron added. "We've got to get out of here."   
  
"Do you know how?" asked Hermione. "To get out of the book, I mean."   
  
Ron shrugged and shook his head. "Harry reckons we've got to play the story through," he said.   
  
"I've thought so as well. The other characters seem to be part of the storybook and not real people. They react to everything we do, even if it's not part of the story. So, I'm not sure we should go against the story until we know how to get out of it."   
  
"What?" said Ron, nonplussed. "Look, you've got to come with-"   
  
"I don't think I can, Ron," Hermione interrupted. "When we arrived here, I tried to leave the castle and I ended up getting shut up in Marion's bedroom with two soldiers standing guard at the door. I don't think it's a good idea for me or Ginny to leave unless it's to leave the book," she finished, catching the confused look that was still on Ron's face. "We'll be all right here, Ron. Robin rescues Marion later, after the Archery Tournament, you know about that, don't you?" she asked.   
  
"Yeah, Harry told me about it," said Ron, not feeling much better about leaving Hermione and Ginny alone there. Before he could stop himself, he wondered if she would've gone with Harry if _he'd_ been playing Robin Hood. He quickly dismissed the thought and concentrated of the matter at hand. "You're sure you and Ginny will be okay?"   
  
"We'll be fine," said Ginny reassuringly.   
  
"You and Harry get out of here and regroup in Sherwood Forest," said Hermione.   
  
"They barricaded the door, is there another way out of here?" Ron asked. Hermione suddenly looked worried and shot a backward glance at Ginny.   
  
"I think so," said Ginny shifting uncomfortably in her restrictive costume. "Upstairs on the balcony, take the right doorway, I think…"   
  
"You think?" repeated Ron.   
  
"I've only been around the castle once, and I didn't go in every room! I don't have it memorized!" she snapped. Ron remained quiet, but got a glare from Ginny for the next few seconds before she continued. "As I was _saying_, take the doorway to the right, it should lead down a corridor with a bunch of rooms along it. There's one, near the end, on the right hand side with a balcony. It's a two story drop, but you'll land in the moat."   
  
"In the _moat_? Ginny-" Ron started but someone crashing into the table above stopped him   
  
"There's no more time, go on," said Hermione, pushing him toward the place where he'd crawled in. "We'll see each other at the Archery Tournament, and try to see if you can find another way out of the book."   
  
"We'll try, you do the same, and be careful," Ron replied, looking from Hermione to Ginny. "You too, Ginny." Ron turned to duck back out from under the table, when Hermione called to him.   
  
"Good luck," she muttered.   
  
"You too," Ron answered and ducked back out from under the table. Almost immediately, a guard noticed him, and charged forward.   
  
_I don't have time for this!_ he thought as he parried the soldier's swings. He needed to find Harry and get out, but he couldn't take his eyes off an attacking guard, unless…   
  
In one swift movement, Ron hopped back up on the table, hopped to avoid a wide swipe by the guard, then slammed his dagger as hard as he could on the guard's helmet. With a loud "_pang_" sound, the guard stumbled backward, a large straight dent marring his polished helmet. Ron took this opportunity to glance around for Harry. He didn't have to.   
  
"Ron!" shouted a voice from above. Ron turned toward the sound and found Harry on the stairs, leaning back so far his back was almost touching the steps. He held tightly to the railing with one hand and was fending off an aggressive soldier with the other. Harry cried out again, "I'm cut, you've got to get out of here."   
  
"Without you? Are you mad?!" Ron shouted, picking up a boiled hen from one of the polished dinner plates. "All for one, you know!"   
  
"That's the Three Musketeers' motto!" Harry shouted back. Ron took careful aim, and chucked the hen at the guard attacking Harry. It hit him hard on the side of the head. Harry, seizing the opportunity, kicked out at him. The kick landed square on his knee, knocking him off balance and sending him flying backward into the men behind him.   
  
"Be there in a minute," Ron yelled up to Harry, who waved a hand and looked grateful to have a breather. Unfortunately, the guards seemed to pick up on the plan. They all swarmed to the bottom of both staircases. Ron didn't have time to think, but he remembered Will had cut the support to one of the chandeliers and it had fallen on the guards. Maybe he could do the same.   
  
He bolted toward the place he'd seen Will standing when the other chandelier fell. There were three ropes tied to the wall. One, the middle one, had been cut through. Ron grabbed one of the other ropes and smacked his dagger against it. With a loud pop, the chandelier started to fall. He turned toward the guards to see if he actually managed to hit one. To Ron's surprise, he felt himself being lifted off his feet. He held tightly to the rope, yelling all the way up.   
  
With a loud crash, the chandelier smashed on the floor, Ron dangled from the rope high above. He hadn't intended to do that, but it had worked; at least the guards at the bottom of Harry's staircase were pinned down by the fallen chandelier.   
  
"Harry," Ron started, realizing he sounded somewhat helpless. "How do I get back down?"   
  
Harry stood, looking from Ron, to the edge of the balcony and back again. "Swing," he said simply. "Swing on the rope, and then jump toward the balcony," he said running up the rest of the stairs and out onto the balcony.   
  
"Are you out of your mind?!" shouted Ron. Apparently he wasn't, because he quickly made an exasperated sigh and shouted back at Ron.   
  
"Just hurry up and swing already!" Ron reluctantly swung back and forth, coming closer and closer to the balcony. Harry watched unflinchingly, as if he were watching a Snitch.   
  
"Now, jump!" Harry shouted.   
  
Ron didn't jump.   
  
"C'mon, jump," he yelled again, gesticulating toward himself vigorously.   
  
"Are you sure about this?" Ron shouted back.   
  
"Yes. Would you jump already, the guards are coming up the stairs!" said Harry.   
  
Ron jumped. He sailed through the air, hit the railing of the balcony and tumbled over it onto Harry. Harry groaned as Ron pushed himself up. Ron just had enough time to see a large red spot on Harry's shoulder before he heard feet pounding up the stairs.   
  
"The guards!" they both breathed together. They helped each other up, and shot toward the doorway on the right side of the balcony.

**Memories can be nice**

Hermione rushed up the stairs toward Marion's bedchamber high within Nottingham castle. Sir Guy had sealed all the exits to the room after he'd managed to get Hermione (and Ginny, though Hermione wasn't sure Sir Guy cared at all about her) out of the Dining Hall. She wasn't sure if Ron and Harry would make a successful escape, but Ginny figured she'd be able to see it from Marion's balcony.   
  
Hermione, who was in less suffocating clothes, had raced ahead of Ginny. She threw the door open, not bothering to close it, and flew to the balcony. She looked out into the clear darkness, down to where she figured the dining hall was. There, about a hundred feet off, a small pack of horses stood with riders in green. Two more people, both clad in green, were being fished out of the moat.   
  
Hermione leaned her elbows on the balcony and gazed down at them. But she wasn't really focusing on them. Her thoughts were focused on the events in the Dining Hall. On seeing Ron sword fight; he was actually rather good at it. But the most thrilling memory was coming out from under the table, just in time to see Ron soaring into the air, hanging onto a chandelier rope. Ginny came back in at some point and spoke to her, but Hermione only half heard. She wandered back in from the balcony and dropped onto the bed. Her mind replayed the events of the evening all night long.   
  
_To be continued…_


	5. Friar Tuck

_Harry Potter books, and all characters therein are belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001/2002 Warner bros. In short, they aren't mine, so please don't sue.   
**kkisblpeen@aol.com   
**_  
_A/N - I would like to say thanks to my awesome Beta-Reader, Seldes Katne, for putting up with my bad grammar and helping me get through this fanfic quickly and as painlessly as it can be._

**Once upon a time**   
_By Kirkis_   
**Chapter Five: Friar Tuck**

**Evening at the Burrow**

Albus Dumbledore arrived at the Burrow just as the sun was setting. He'd gotten an urgent owl from the Weasleys that had brought unwelcome news. Harry, along with his two closest friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, as well as the Weasleys' youngest and only daughter Ginny, had disappeared. The letter only said that the entire family had been looking for them, and couldn't find them anywhere. Albus had hastily sent word to Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin to meet him at the Burrow.   
  
His worries had grown deeper as he flew at top speed to the old house on the outskirts of the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. He refused to let his anxieties interfere with his better judgment. Losing one's head never solved anything, or saved anyone's life. But even so, he couldn't help but feel that he may already be too late.   
  
He knocked firmly on the door, which opened almost immediately. Molly Weasley stood before him, looking pale, distraught, and holding a handkerchief to her nose.   
  
"Oh, Professor!" she heaved, stepping aside to allow him in. "We're so glad you're here. Arthur is upstairs checking the bedrooms with Mr. Lupin and Mis- Snuffles," she said shakily. "I just can't believe this could happen."   
  
"Do you have any idea how it did happen?" Albus asked, stepping inside. Molly shot a stiff glare at her son, Fred, who lowered his very white face to the floor. The rest of the Weasleys had come into the front hallway.   
  
"Fred let them go up in the _attic_, alone, and we didn't put as many wards up there," she said, unable to choke back tears. She sobbed and leaned her head against her oldest son's shoulder. Bill put his arm around her, and looked up at Albus.   
  
"They asked Fred to put the Ghoul in the trunk up there, he didn't know we hadn't put as many wards on the attic," said Bill in a somber tone.   
  
"Show me to the attic please, Fred," said Albus. Fred looked up at him with uncharacteristic fear in his eyes, but nodded and headed up the stairs. As they passed the third floor landing, Albus noticed a door standing open. Arthur Weasley, Remus Lupin and a large black dog Albus recognized as Sirius Black were looking about in the room. On the fifth floor landing, a door with a small plaque on it that read "Ronald's Room" stood ajar. Beside it there was a large open archway, with a staircase just inside it.   
  
"It's up here," said Fred, his voice sounded hollow. He turned to head back down the stairs.   
  
"Fred, if you will accompany me," said Albus. Fred turned around looking horror struck. "It's all right," Albus added seeing the look on Fred's face. "I believe your brother is right, you had no way of knowing that the wards were thinner in the attic. Come now, if we are to find your brother and sister and their friends, I'll need your help."   
  
Fred made a slow nod and headed up the stairs into the attic. The Weasleys' attic was enlarged to nearly twice the size of the house. There seemed to be quite a few Muggle artifacts hanging around up there. Some looked quite illegal. There was also a great Weather Globe in the center of the room. It looked very old, and if not for the large crack running from Greenland to Mexico, it might've been worth a fortune. Albus raised his wand, and muttered the necessary words. A thin wave of white light spread out from the tip of his wand. If there had been any strong magic used in the attic, the wave would bounce back and turn blue.   
  
The wave poured over all surfaces in the attic and blue suddenly resonated from the vicinity of a stack of books. Albus headed in that direction.   
  
"They came up here to look for some old books," said Fred.   
  
"You shouldn't have let them up here either, Fred," huffed Percy Weasley, who had just come up into the attic. He turned toward Albus and spoke in a business like manner, as if they were searching for a lost cooking utensil. "I searched the attic already," he said proudly. "I didn't find anything out of the ordinary."   
  
"Percy, I believe your brother is being hard enough on himself _without_ having you to help him at it," said Albus, gazing at Percy. The once-Head Boy of Hogwarts had grown farther away from his family in recent weeks, but when it came down to it, he still cared about them. _He, too, is so young,_ Albus thought, before proceeding with his search. "Did you move anything, Percy, even the slightest bit?" said Albus, looking down at Percy from over his half moon spectacles.   
  
"No, sir," said Percy, but then he suddenly turned toward one of the stacks. "Actually, yes, I nearly tripped over that book. It was in the middle of the floor." He pointed toward a book on top of one of the stacks. Albus headed straight for it and reached down to pick it up.   
  
"_The Tale of Robin Hood…_" Albus read aloud. He pulled the cover open and was suddenly immersed in a brilliant white light pouring out of the book. The floor tilted violently toward the book, and he knew right off what it must be. He raised his head sharply toward Fred and Percy, hoping there was still time.   
  
"_No one_ is to open this book again!" he said as quickly as he could, fighting to keep his balance. Finally, he was pulled head first into the book.

**Friar Tuck**

Harry awoke much earlier on the day after the banquet than he had the first day. He sat up and felt a sharp sting in his shoulder. It was still sore from the cut he'd gotten the night before. His memories of the previous night were a blur. He sat there quietly taking in the forest all around him and the sounds it made in the early dawn. Trees creaking in the breeze, leaves rustling, birds chirping, a woodpecker hard at work, and a faint murmur of people from down below. The smell of sausages and bread was growing stronger by the minute.   
  
Harry sat unmoving, with one hand resting on his bandaged shoulder, wondering what time it was. His watch, like his wand and clothes, was missing, but oddly enough, he still had his glasses. Beside him, Ron stirred, groaned and sat up sleepily.   
  
"'Orning 'Arry," Ron said thickly through a yawn.   
  
"Morning," Harry replied. Ron pulled himself to his feet and lumbered over to the corner to the chamber pot, while Harry took this opportunity to stretch his legs on the balcony. Will was heading across one of the catwalks toward their treehouse.   
  
"Is Robin awake?" he asked as he stepped off the catwalk onto the balcony.   
  
"Yeah," answered Harry looking cautiously back into the hut. Ron was rummaging through the drawers again, apparently searching for a pair of trousers he may have overlooked the other day. Will followed Harry back into the hut.   
  
"You sure you can't find any trousers? I _hate_ these tights!" said Ron, throwing the tights down on the floor.   
  
"Sorry," Will said sheepishly. "A man showed up about an hour ago asking for you, Robin," he added.   
  
Ron's eyes shifted straight to Harry, but when he spoke it was to Will. "Did he give you his name?" Ron asked, pulling on his green shirt.   
  
"Says his name is, er… well, I can't remember the name, but he said he was a Friar. Didn't look like any friar I've ever laid eyes on. Had hair down past his belt," said Will, gesturing with his hands to indicate a long beard.   
  
"Friar Tuck?" asked Harry.   
  
"Yeah, that's what he said his name was. You know him?" asked Will.   
  
"I know of him," Harry replied, standing up and looking around for his green shirt.   
  
"Oh yeah, Mrs. Little took your shirt to wash and mend, you'll have to wear one of the older ones," said Will, pointing to a half open drawer full of dingy white shirts. "I'll wait for you two down at the Meeting Hall," he added, and headed out the door and across the catwalk. Ron ginned at Harry.   
  
Mrs. Little?" he said.   
  
"Shut up," said Harry coolly.   
  
"So, who's Friar Tuck?" asked Ron.   
  
"He's a traveling friar, and after a little persuasion, he joins Robin's cause," said Harry. "So, we'd better hurry up and get down there."

* * *

After Ron gave up his second search for something less embarrassing than tights, he and Harry headed down to the Meeting Hall. Aside from meeting Friar Tuck, they also wanted to get an early breakfast.   
  
"I just wonder what he meant by the guy not looking like any Friar he's ever seen," Harry said as they headed down the sloping hill toward the Meeting Hall.   
  
"Having hair down past his belt, sounds a bit like Dumbledore," said Ron as they came around the open end of the Meeting Hall and came face to face with Friar Tuck. Their jaws dropped.   
  
"P-Professor Dumbledore?!" they both stuttered. Professor Dumbledore, dressed in plain brown robes and carrying a long wooden staff stood beaming at them.   
  
"Yes, I was once called Professor Dumbledore," he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "But now I am called Friar Tuck."   
  
"Professor, how-" Harry started.   
  
"Which one of you is Robin Hood?" asked Dumbledore. After a moment of hesitation, Ron stepped forward.   
  
"I am," he said, "I know it ought to be Harry," he added quickly. Harry didn't agree. Secretly, he had been more than happy that Ron was playing the hero of the story. Maybe he'd figure out it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.   
  
"Not necessarily, Ronald, excuse me, Robin," Dumbledore interrupted. "And I can assume that you're portraying John Little?" he asked Harry, who nodded.   
  
"First and foremost, I think it would be best to speak as Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Albus Dumbledore," said Dumbledore, pulling out a chair. "And some breakfast would also be welcome."

* * *

Harry and Ron spent the better part of the morning with Dumbledore discussing what had taken place over the last few days. They told him how they went up in the attic at the Burrow to look through some old books, how Hermione had found an old book and gotten sucked into it, and how they'd followed her in. They told him how she and Ginny were in Nottingham castle, and that they, too, were playing parts.   
  
Fortunately, Dumbledore was well versed in this particular Muggle story, though he did say that there were many versions of it, each one varying subtly from the next. The most common parts of the story, the parts that ended up in most adaptations, were the Archery Tournament, the duel between Robin and the lead villain (Prince John, Sir Guy, or the Sheriff) and the wedding of Robin and Marion at the end of the story. (Ron went pale at this point and stared blankly at his plate.)   
  
Dumbledore also agreed that playing through the story was probably the best option they had since none of them had their wands anyway. Ron couldn't see how they were going to be able to get through the story without any sort of magic. Sword fighting and archery just weren't as useful defenses as having a wand by your side. Even though Harry agreed with Ron on that point, it didn't make any difference since the only defenses they _had_ were swords and bows.   
  
Having been supplied with the official date of the Archery Tournament, (in one week's time) Dumbledore suggested that Harry and Ron practice up on their Muggle-style defenses. Harry knew he needed to work on his sword fighting abilities and, even though his shoulder still stung when he moved it, he set to practicing with Bull, one of the Merry Men. Dumbledore convinced Ron to practice his skills with a bow, partly because he had fared much better with swordplay, and partly because he was playing Robin Hood. He grudgingly agreed to the archery lessons.

**Practice makes better**

The week seemed to fly by. They were dragged out of bed at sunrise every day and worked till after sunset that evening. Harry had taken well to his practice, though he wasn't too keen on taking all of Will's advice; he doubted he could really stab someone, even if it was probably a fictional character in a magical book. Ron, however, hadn't done as well with his training. He rarely hit the target and complained loudly that it would be easier if he could "drop the stupid bow and just chuck the arrow at the target!" But by the afternoon before the Archery Tournament he was consistently hitting the target, though he wasn't getting close to the center.   
  
As afternoon faded into evening, Harry and Ron headed down to the Meeting Hall for dinner, as they had done every day that week. They met Dumbledore at the entrance and sat with him at one of the two long tables. Harry had gotten used to the dishes being brought out to the tables. As there was no magic in this world, naturally there were no golden plates where food could simply appear, or any house-elves to make the food for that matter. All the food was prepared by five rather large women.   
  
As dinner was brought out, Harry noticed his appetite wasn't as strong tonight as it had been for the past few days. He supposed it was nerves. Ron also seemed to have a weaker appetite tonight, he looked at the approaching roast boar with a somewhat queasy look on his face.   
  
"I suppose it is pointless to suggest that the two of you eat?" said Dumbledore, looking up from his empty plate. Ron looked up momentarily as if he wanted to ask something, but instead, he tilted his face back downward to his plate and pushed around the small amounts of food there. "A concern, Robin?" asked Dumbledore; he had insisted on using their story names. Ron looked back up and thought for a moment before he spoke.   
  
"Why do I even have to compete?" he asked bluntly. "I mean, if we only need to rescue Maid Marion, why should I have to compete in the tournament at all?" It did seem like a logical question. What was the point of competing? They could go in, crash the tournament, grab Hermione and Ginny and make a run for it without changing the overall story.   
  
"You're forgetting three things, Robin," said Dumbledore. "First, Robin Hood is a particularly brazen Hero. He borders on arrogance at some times. Competing in the tournament is another means for him to scoff at Nottingham and at Prince John. It is a matter of pride. Second, none of the Merry Men are supposed to _know_ the Tournament is a trap. They may suspect, but _they_ have no way of _knowing_. And third, almost every version of this story states that Robin Hood competes in the Archery Tournament and _wins_. I'm not certain the story will progress otherwise," said Dumbledore. Ron looked aghast and spoke up loudly, causing a few Merry Men to look their way.   
  
"You mean I _have_ to win!? I just thought-"   
  
"You _may_ have to win, Robin," said Dumbledore slowly. "Almost every version of Robin Hood I've ever encountered which includes the banquet scene, ends the scene with Robin felling all the guards and leaving Nottingham castle one-up on the villain. Your unorthodox exit of Nottingham castle would seem to suggest that the book encourages the plot even when events do not generally follow it. So, it may be possible for you to lose and still continue without interfering with the plot. We cannot be certain, of course. I would suggest that you do your best tomorrow and try to win, in case the plot cannot advance without Robin winning the Tournament. It may also be wise to have a backup plan if you fail to win," he finished. Ron still looked a little pale as he shifted his gaze back to his plate. Harry thought for a moment.   
  
"If Dumbledore's right," Ron said. He seemed to be thinking out loud. "About the book adjusting so the plot will still fit, if I lost…" he trailed off and Harry picked up from there.   
  
"Robin isn't supposed to know it's a trap," he said. "So, Prince John and Sir Guy aren't supposed to know which contestant is Robin …until he wins." It suddenly dawned on him. "So they'll think whoever wins is Robin and go after him!"   
  
"Leaving us free to rescue Marion and whichever part Miss Weasley is playing," Dumbledore concluded.   
  
"The backup plan sounds more solid than the main one," said Ron. Harry thought that was very true. It seemed far less logical to try to win, and have the guards jump Ron, than to let someone else win, have the guards jump on him and rescue Hermione and Ginny amid the din. Harry wondered what could happen that might interfere with the plot if Ron lost.   
  
"What could go wrong with the plot if he doesn't win?" Harry asked Dumbledore. He appeared to take a moment to think before he answered.   
  
"_If_ the plot required Robin to escape _without_ Maid Marion, as some versions do, then removing her from Nottingham would directly interfere with the plot laid down in this book," he finished. "Which is why it is important to attempt to follow the story as closely as possible."   
  
"So I _do_ have to win tomorrow," said Ron.   
  
"Just do your best, Ronald. As you've said, the back-up plan appears to be more solid than the primary plan. If you should fail to win, we will switch to the back-up plan," said Dumbledore.   
  
"So, what's the back-up plan?" asked Harry taking a bite out of his potato.

* * *

By the time dinner was finished, they'd all agreed on both a plan and a backup plan. The primary plan was for Ron to win the tournament, and let the guards take him. Harry, Dumbledore, Will, and some of the other Merry Men would ride in to his rescue, and at the same time, try to rescue Hermione and Ginny. Then they would make their escape to Sherwood, before the final confrontation. The backup plan, which Harry and Ron both thought was more sound, was for Ron to lose and let Prince John and Sir Guy and his guards nab the wrong man. They'd figure it out sooner or later, but it would give Harry and Ron time to sneak back to Sherwood with Hermione and Ginny.   
  
The problem was, both plans needed Hermione and Ginny to know what was going on, and the latter required them to know when to sneak out of the presence of Sir Guy and Prince John. It was agreed that while Ron was competing, Dumbledore would find Hermione and Ginny. Most likely they would be in the Royal box with Prince John, Sir Guy and the Sheriff of Nottingham. Posing as an old colleague of Ginny's, he could give them the necessary information and, at the right moment, sneak them out from under Sir Guy, Prince John and the Sheriff's noses.   
  
So Harry and Ron headed up to their tree-house room with full heads if not full stomachs. The next day would be rough, and long. They settled in to their makeshift beds, blew out the candles lighting the room and said their goodnights. It was a while before Harry fell asleep, hoping that things would go well tomorrow.   
  
_ **To be continued…**_


	6. The Archery Tournament

_Harry Potter books, and all characters therein are belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001/2002 Warner bros. In short, they aren't mine, so please don't sue.   
**kkisblpeen@aol.com   
**  
As always, I would like to thank my terrific Beta-reader, Seldes Katne, for taking the time to help me._

**Once upon a time**   
_By Kirkis_   
**Chapter Six: The Archery Tournament**

**Sister's Concern**

Ginny awoke with a knot in her stomach. She sat up and glanced around. It took her a few seconds to remember why her insides were turning so uncomfortably. It was the day of the Archery Tournament, and Ron would be competing. But that wasn't what worried her.   
  
There was no danger in the competition itself. The danger began when the competing ended and the winner was announced… and then captured. Ron as Robin, and Harry as whatever character he was playing would have to escape again.   
  
The banquet escape had been frightening enough. Sir Guy had dragged Ginny and Hermione out and neither of them was very happy with him for it. Not that Ginny could've done anything in her costume. She could barely walk in it, much less help in a swordfight.   
  
Ginny shook her head, trying to ward off a wave of fear creeping up her back. In more than one way, the Archery Tournament felt more frightening than the Triwizard Tournament had. It was just Harry then, and even though his life _was_ in danger then, Dumbledore had been there, and there was plenty of magic to help him through. This time, Ron was in danger too, and there was no Dumbledore, _or_ magic to help them.   
  
Harry had already been injured. He'd gotten his shoulder slashed by a Nottingham Guard. It bled so quickly, Ginny remembered with a shudder, staining his forest green shirt. There was no magic to help it heal either, so it would leave a scar. _Another scar_, she thought, running her hand over the outside of her right thigh.   
  
She did this every now and then when thinking of Harry's scar. She too had a scar, on that very leg. It wasn't special like Harry's. She still remembered falling on the rocks near the far side of the pond at the Burrow. She'd feared getting in trouble and hadn't told her parents about it. By the time they found out, it had healed too much to prevent a scar. So Ginny carried an irregular scar an inch long on her right thigh, which she was now running her finger down absently.   
  
Suddenly, she hopped out of bed and pulled off her makeshift nightgown, hating the thought of having to wrap herself back up in those horribly restrictive clothes. It wasn't that Ginny hated snug-fitting clothes, or even clothes that covered her entire body except her face. It was just that the habit she had to wear had so many layers, and was such a stiff cloth that she could barely move properly. It also got quite hot wrapped up so tight, and Ginny was getting the feeling that she was sweating away half her body weight. Not that _that_ bothered her too much. She was noticing her hips and thighs getting a little fuller. Though Hermione said it was normal for girls their age to fill out a little, Ginny hoped it would involve more vertical filling than horizontal filling.   
  
As she slowly got dressed, Ginny's mind wandered back to the coming tournament and the fear of what would happen when it was finished. She hoped Ron and Harry had the good sense to use the week preceding the Archery tournament to practice archery and swordplay. But she knew them too well to put much stock in that hope. Ron would get bored with it, and Harry was easily distracted from necessary tasks. This was especially true when Ron made the distractions, and with no Hermione there to keep him on track, Harry would probably end up doing whatever Ron was doing.   
  
None of this brought comfort to Ginny as she pulled the stiff hood around her head. She only hoped Hermione's theory that the book might not let the Hero lose, would carry over into also not letting the hero die. Ginny shook off fear and doubt and left her Spartan room, heading up to the fifth floor of the keep, where Hermione's posh medieval room was located.

**The first round**

Around noon, Hermione and Ginny were escorted to the Royal box to wait for the tournament to begin. A red, black and blue awning stretched over the Royal box, blocking out some of the sun. But it was still hot under the thick cloth, and with no breeze to speak of, it was only getting hotter. Hermione knew she was luckier though; her dress was far less restrictive than Ginny's thick white robes. It didn't take long for Ginny to grow very pink against the stiff cloth surrounding her face.   
  
Prince John and Sir Guy joined them, both dressed in lurid tunics and chain mail. Prince John wore his thick crenellated Crown and Sir Guy was draped in a sweeping gold cape. As they settled in, the announcer broke over the hum of the chattering crowd.   
  
"Ladies and Gen'lemen," he shouted eagerly, yelling through a giant red, blue and black megaphone. His voice reminded Hermione of one of the actors from Monty Python's Flying Circus, a television show her father liked.   
  
"Welcome to the No'ingham Archery Tournament! We 'ope you've enjoyed the parade, and invite you to get yourself an ale and se'le down an' enjoy the Tournament! Our contestants will be linin' up in front o' the targets shor'ly! In the mean time, put your 'ands together for 'Orace 'Orner and 'is band of minstrels!" shouted the announcer. Hermione looked in the direction the announcer had waved his arm. The band were six men and what actually looked like two women, all holding instruments similar to the some of the ones the Weird sisters had played at the Yule Ball. A banner overhead read "Horace Horner's band of traveling minstrels", and there was scattered applause as they bowed and began to play. Most of the people in the stands seemed either too uninterested, or too hot to applaud. Hermione applauded absently; Ginny was too busy tugging the cloth away from her chin.   
  
The band played a number that seemed to drag on for ten minutes, and Hermione was forced to endue Sir Guy's endless comments. "When I was a lad I could play the lute, - I once knew a singer from London, - ale is best served with meals, but it tastes good anytime, too." He droned on like that until the song came slowly to an end. The moment they'd finished, the announcer was back with his odd accent.   
  
"An' now the contestants are ready to make their way out onto the field," he said. The announcer named each contestant as they walked out across the field. Hermione listened through the first five, but soon realized Ron would probably use an alias. She wondered if he would be clever enough to use "Ronald Weasley".   
  
"Do you see anyone who looks like Ron yet?" Hermione whispered to Ginny as "Graham Garamond" was announced. Ginny shook her head and continued to fan herself. She looked like she was ready to pass out from the heat.   
  
"Are you sure you-"   
  
"Yes, M'lady, I'm sure. I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Ginny, interrupting her. She leaned in close and whispered to Hermione. "I only wish I could wear some normal clothes." Hermione knew enough not to ask Ginny yet again if she truly wanted to be there. Ginny always said the same thing; "You know I have to come." Hermione always felt a little sorry for Ginny about her feelings for Harry. She _did_ have to come, after all, to the Quidditch matches, and to the Triwizard tasks, even though she ended up chewing her fingernails down to nubs every time. Ginny always said that not knowing was far worse. Hermione suspected she was feeling the same anxiety for Ron.   
  
Hermione shifted her attention back to the contestants making their way across the field one by one. As "Reginald Braybourne III" was being announced, an unpleasant thought wormed its way out of a far corner of her mind.   
  
"I hope he didn't back out at the last second," she said. She and Ginny exchanged the same worried look and returned their gaze quickly to the field, scanning for any sign of Ron.   
  
"Though if he did, I'd imagine Harry might step in," said Ginny without taking her eyes off "Melvin Froop", who was walking jauntily across the field waving to the crowd. Hermione made a small noise of agreement and sat up straight, trying to catch sight of the next contestant as soon as he came out from beneath the registry tent.   
  
"Neville Longbo'om" said the announcer. Ginny and Hermione both had cover their mouths with their hands to keep from exploding with laughter. Neville Longbottom was the last name they were expecting. Ginny leaned toward Hermione and took her hand away from her mouth.   
  
"Why didn't he just use is real name, or Harry's, or _Dumbledore's_!" she breathed, still smiling. The contestant called Neville Longbottom came out from under the registry tent; he was dressed even more flamboyantly than Prince John. He had a large purple plumed hat, a poufy purple tunic, and white tights on his legs.   
  
"It's Ron," Ginny whispered knowingly. Hermione was just wondering how she knew for a fact that it was Ron, when Ginny told her how without even being asked. "I recognize his walk. No one else carries himself like Ron," she said, still watching him. Hermione hadn't noticed it before, but it was true, now that she thought about it. She couldn't ever imagine anyone walking quite like Ron. She hadn't even been aware that she knew how Ron walked until now.   
  
To add credence that this was in fact Ron, halfway across the field, _Neville_ lifted his hat a little and looked up into the Royal box. On his face was an obviously fake moustache, but some of his flaming red Weasley hair was showing. Even from some twenty yards off, Hermione caught his eye. He looked very nervous, and Hermione wondered if he was feeling the same way Harry usually felt before something big. A second later, he pulled the hat down and looked away from the Royal box.

* * *

"The tournament," the announcer bellowed through his megaphone, "consists of two rounds. In the first round, all contestants will show their skill at both hitting a target on center, and shooting an arrow a long distance. The judges will give marks out of ten, then choose the five best contestants to move on to the secon' round. The secon' round is a test of an archer's skill at hitting a moving target, as well as hitting a target while moving. The judges then name the winner. Any ties will be se'led by a combination of all the events: accuracy, distance, and hitting a moving target while moving."   
  
"I'll announce each contestant in turn, they'll have three shots, then the judges will give marks based on all three shots," said the announcer. Hermione settled herself into her seat. Three shots apiece meant that with twenty-one contestants (Ron being number seventeen,), the first round of the tournament would take ages. It was already very hot, and with the sun burning high in the sky, it was probably going to get hotter still.   
  
Somewhere around number fifteen, there was a distraction from the back of the Royal box. Someone had entered and the guard was trying to detain him. Sir Guy stood up and both Hermione and Ginny turned to have a look. At first glance, Hermione could have sworn it was Dumbledore. From under his drab brown hood came a long silver beard that went past his belt, and from around either side of his neck was long wispy-looking silver hair. _But it can't be Dumbledore, can it_? she thought. A moment later, he spoke and removed any doubt she might have had about his identity.   
  
"I am Friar Tuck, here on Lady Marion's invitation," he said. "As a close friend of her handmaiden," he continued, indicating Ginny.   
  
"Sister Ophelia, is this true?" asked Sir Guy, not taking his eyes off Dumbledore.   
  
"Yes, he knew my father, I asked her Ladyship if she would invite him to join us," said Ginny. With a nod from Prince John, Sir Guy called off the guard and allowed Dumbledore to take a seat beside Ginny. Suddenly, everything seemed a thousand times better, safer even. Dumbledore was here, inside the story. She figured he must've come to the Burrow when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley noticed they were missing. He must've found the book, and got sucked in the same way they had.   
  
Dumbledore leaned in toward Hermione under the pretense of discussing contestants' chances and started to briefly explain the situation. "Whether or not Robin wins the Tournament, stick close to me," he said, pointing out at Melvin Froop, who was just taking aim at the target. Sir Guy leaned toward Hermione.   
  
"I could have competed, my dear, you know," said Sir Guy self-importantly, looking past her and nodding to Ginny and Dumbledore. "But I thought, since I've taken quite a few trophies in my time, I should leave this to someone else- Ohh," he said, wincing slightly as one of Melvin's arrows flew wide and missed the target altogether. "Better hit the target with his last arrow," he said. Hermione was getting tired of his pointless chatter. She might've been able to stomach it better if she hadn't been worried about Ron. "See, no higher than a four, awful, just awful," said Sir Guy.   
  
"Contestant number seventeen, Neville Longbo'om," said the announcer. Ron straightened up at this and Hermione wondered if he'd been asleep. She remembered the many times just a month or two ago that she'd stayed up late helping Harry learn spells that would get him through the third Triwizard Tournament task. She wondered if Ron had stayed up all night learning how to shoot.   
  
_Come on, Ron!_ Hermione thought as Ron drew back his bow to shoot his first arrow. With a low "thung" sound, the arrow shot out and hit the target near the edge. The crowd clapped lightly as Ron set another arrow on his bow. Another "thung" sound and the arrow struck the target further in. _Just a little closer to the center, Ron,_ Hermione thought, watching Ron draw back his bow for the third time. With the same "thung" sound, the arrow shot out, sailed over the target altogether and stuck in the ground a good ten yards away. The applause was minimal, but that wasn't what fouled Hermione's mood the most.   
  
She had thought Ron did quite well for someone who, at best, had only been practicing archery for a week. He had hit the target, half-way in, too. That was more than Melvin Froop had done. But Sir Guy seemed to think he was every bit as embarrassing.   
  
"That poor lad," he said, clucking his fat tongue. "Must not be any good under pressure," he said in an offhand manner. He turned toward Hermione, showing his ugly yellow-green teeth. "That kind could never be a soldier. No bravery whatsoever. He'd probably drop to his knees and cry if someone pulled a sword on him." Hermione felt like slapping him, and from the look on Ginny's face, she felt like slapping him, too.   
  
_I'll bet Ron has more bravery in his little toe than your whole family put together!_ she thought indignantly. Sir Guy, who was still going on about how poorly _Neville_ had done, didn't seem to notice the narrow-eyed glare he was getting from her.   
  
"Shoosh, she said, waving her hand at Sir Guy. "They're putting up his marks!" she finished not bothering to hide her anger. Sir Guy looked slightly put out at being shooshed. The highest score given to Ron was a five, which wasn't bad. The lowest was a three.   
  
"To'al score for Neville Longbo'om; nineteen," said the announcer. "Contestant number eighteen, Ferdinand Herrera."

* * *

Dumbledore managed to slip a few more details to Hermione and Ginny over the course of the tournament. There were two possible plans, depending on how well Ron fared, though Dumbledore didn't explain either plan in detail. They knew if Ron scored lower than forty-three, he probably wouldn't advance to the second round. If he did manage to move on, they would have to wait to see his scores for the second round. Even though Dumbledore knew what had to be done in any event, Hermione hoped Ron would come through with a win. Ron didn't have many moments in the spotlight, and even though it was just a book, she knew he'd be thrilled to win.   
  
They sat through another song from Horace Horner's band and then through most of the contestants, waiting for Ron's turn in the accuracy competition. By the time Contestant number sixteen, Melvin Froop, was making his way off the field, Hermione felt every bit as anxious as she had before Dumbledore showed up.   
  
"Contestant number seventeen, Neville Longbo'om."   
  
A knot tied in the pit of Hermione's stomach. She was trying to prepare herself for the worst, but she couldn't help hoping he'd pull through. _C'mon, Ron!_ she thought. Ron set an arrow in his bow, aimed high and let it fly. The arrow fired upward, and arcing, came sailing back toward the ground to land almost five feet behind third place, Denholm Shaw's best arrow.   
  
Hermione and Ginny couldn't help but clap and cheer louder than they had been all morning. Ron loaded up another arrow and fired it into the sky. This one landed about a foot shorter than the first one. The third arrow might make or break him, if he could get above Denholm Shaw's arrow, he would make it into the second round. Hermione sat nearly on the edge of her seat. _Come on, Ron, you can do it,_ she thought, crossing her fingers in her lap. Ron drew back his bow and shot. The arrow flew into the air, wobbling violently. Its arc crested quickly as the wobble worsened and it quickly lost forward momentum. It hurtled straight down sticking in the ground a few inches from Melvin Froop's best arrow.   
  
They'd all been keeping up with the score and it now seemed impossible for Ron to win. He could get no lower than forty-three, and the fact that his last arrow had been so terrible would count against him. Hermione crossed as many fingers as she could, not caring if Sir Guy noticed. Ron's marks would be coming up soon.   
  
One by one the Judges held up cards with numbers on them. An eight. _A little higher, please, _thought Hermione. A nine. _That's better, another nine or a ten, please._ An eight. _Nines or tens, come on. Eighteen more points,_ An eight. _No! Only a ten now. Come on, ten!_ And finally, an eight. A slow, slight, numbness spread over her. She hadn't expected him to lose. He had lost at Exploding Snap plenty of times, but… She just couldn't put her finger on it. Ron had done an excellent job, the judges just didn't know he never knew how to shoot. They didn't know he'd only been practicing for a week. It didn't seem fair.   
  
"To'al score for Neville Longbo'om, forty one," the announcer shouted through his megaphone. As reality set in, Hermione realized that they would be following the backup plan. As soon as the tournament was over, the guards would nab the wrong man, and she, Ginny and Dumbledore would slip away unnoticed. But Hermione couldn't help wishing she could've seen Ron win, even though it would've been dangerous.   
  
_You're being absolutely silly, Hermione. What did you want, a hero to come and rescue you?_ part of her mind thought. It was absurd; Ron didn't need to win an archery tournament, that wasn't what she liked about him anyway. Ron was Ron, that's all she wanted him to be. But before she could think about it any further, another part of her mind chimed in. _But still, it would be nice to be rescued by my hero once in a while._ Hermione knew she was blushing. Had she really consciously thought that? She distracted herself quite well by watching the last few contestants compete in the first round.

**The second round**

Hermione was surprised by how quickly the second round seemed to go. The tasks were more difficult; shooting on horseback, and shooting pheasants out of the sky. But the removal of most of the other contestants had sped things up considerably. In no time at all the last archer was making his way up to the mark to take his three shots. Hermione gave a nervous glance toward Dumbledore. If all went as planned, as soon as the winner was announced, Sir Guy would surely give a signal, and masses of guards would close in. She wasn't sure how much time they would have once it became obvious that the winner wasn't Robin Hood.   
  
Denholm Shaw, having shot all his arrows, was now waiting for his score. Hermione tried to relax herself by taking a few deep breaths.   
  
"To'al score for Den'olm Shaw, for'y-eight!" the announcer shouted enthusiastically. "With all scores in, Den'olm Shaw is our winner!" Denholm Shaw waved both hands vibrantly toward the crowd, and to the Royal box. Hermione half turned toward Sir Guy. She saw him point his finger lazily toward Denholm, who was now facing the opposite stands and waving happily. About twenty or thirty guards seemed to come out of nowhere. From under the registration tent, from trap doors in the ground. Some had been undercover and standing a few feet from Denholm. They surrounded him, and before he knew what was happening, he was being kicked to the ground and roughed up. Hermione tried not to think that that could've been Ron down there getting the stuffing kicked out of him. The Sheriff stepped down a row and rested his hands on the front rail of the Royal box.   
  
"Bring him here," the Sheriff shouted. The guards dragged Denholm in front of the Royal box and pulled him shakily to his feet.   
  
"Wh-what did I-" he started.   
  
"Silence!" roared Sir Guy. He turned toward Prince John and spoke smugly. "I present you, Robin Hood," he said. But Prince John didn't look pleased. Instead, he stood up and stepped down two rows, glaring disbelievingly at Denholm Shaw.   
  
"This is _not_ Robin Hood, you… you…_mor_on!" Prince John grabbed Sir Guy by the shoulder of his coat and forced him down another row to the bottom rail of the Royal box. Almost immediately, Hermione felt a tug at her sleeve as Ginny slipped silently down the row and after Dumbledore. Hermione followed as quietly as she could, all the while listening to Prince John and Sir Guy.   
  
"Does that look like red hair to you?" snapped Prince John. "Does he look tall? Where are those freckles he had at the Banquet?" Sir Guy seemed to be at a loss for words.   
  
They were almost to the door, another few steps. Dumbledore stepped to the side to usher Ginny and Hermione through, keeping his eyes on Prince John and Sir Guy the whole time. As Hermione slipped through the curtain, she heard Sir Guy finally speak.   
  
"He must be here, find-" he was cut off by a sudden roar of the crowd. Hermione, Ginny and Dumbledore headed down out of the stands and away from the field. It was amazing how few people there were around; they must've all gone to see the tournament.   
  
It was just when Hermione thought the plan had gone off without a hitch that it all seemed to go wrong. She had only just become aware of a thunderous sound approaching when Dumbledore, turned and pulled her behind him. She looked around his shoulder to see at least ten horsemen coming their way.   
  
"Say nothing, either of you," he said quickly. The horsemen slowed and surrounded them. They all drew their swords and pointed them straight at Dumbledore. "An escort for her ladyship?" he asked.   
  
"A rescue party," said a sniveling voice from somewhere behind the wall of guards. The Sheriff squeezed between two of the guards, looking smug on his white horse. "Sir Guy will be here shortly. I thought I should come have a little chat with you until then. I did wonder why you took it upon yourself to slip out of the Royal box with her ladyship. At first I though you might be moving them to a more secure location. But you seemed to want to get them out without anyone noticing, which is odd. Unless you were planning on dragging her back to Sherwood, to Robin Hood, so he could hold her for ransom."   
  
"Don't be-" Hermione started, but Dumbledore held his hand up.   
  
"An interesting theory. However, I _am_ more concerned for these ladies' safety than anyone else in Nottingham," he said. Hermione would've shared a look with Ginny if the situation hadn't been so tense. "To that end, I'm sure you'll understand if I ask you to let them out from under these swords, until we can sort this out," he added.   
  
"Lady Marion," called the Sheriff, holding out his hand. She instinctively looked to Dumbledore, who nodded toward the Sheriff. She reluctantly took his hand and started toward him, looking back over her shoulder to Dumbledore. Ginny took a step forward to follow and two guards thrust their swords out, only inches from her face.   
  
"I'm afraid Sister Ophelia won't be keeping Lady Marion company any longer," said the Sheriff. Before Dumbledore could answer, Sir Guy rode up.   
  
"My dear, are you hurt? When I heard…" said Sir Guy, trailing off at the sight of Dumbledore. "_Knave_…" he muttered under his breath.   
  
"My Lord," said Hermione, thinking it wise to stay in character at this point. "I know they're innocent."   
  
"You are misinformed, my dear. Sister Ophelia has been working with this Friar, _and_ with Robin Hood," said Sir Guy, his voice thick with disgust. "Arrest them!"   
  
"No, wait!" Hermione shouted, turning back to Ginny and Dumbledore. The memory of Denholm Shaw being beaten to the ground and kicked about flashed through her mind. "Wait," she repeated trying to move toward them. Sir Guy grabbed her by the wrist and held her back. "No, they'll beat them! You can't-" she frantically shrieked, interrupted by Dumbledore.   
  
"A true gentleman does not harm a lady," he said, pulling Ginny protectively toward himself. "And as long as she is not harmed, we will go peacefully."   
  
"Whether they're guilty or not, I don't want to see either of them hurt," said Hermione. Sir Guy pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear.   
  
"Of course you don't, my dear, they are your allies, are they not?" he asked. She looked up at him, unsure what he meant. "I _know_ you helped Robin Hood escape from the Banquet," he whispered so softly that only she could hear. _He couldn't know,_ she thought. "I know you were in on this plan today, but…" he trailed off gazing over to Dumbledore and Ginny. "I can't very well execute _you_, can I?"   
  
"You _can't_!" Hermione shrieked. She turned away from him, fighting to get free. Sir Guy wrestled her back to his side with some difficulty and whispered again in her ear.   
  
"I may be persuaded to _misplace_ their execution orders," he said silkily. Hermione knew where this was going. It fit with the story so well she wondered why she didn't see it coming the moment they were caught. She was going to be forced to marry Sir Guy.   
  
"I'm listening," she whispered back. An ugly smile broke across his face before he spoke.   
  
"We can discuss the details later," he said to her, then turned his attention to the guards.   
  
"Arrest them," he said again. "Any man who harms a hair on Sister Ophelia's head will be thrown so deeply into the bowels of the dungeon that he'll feel Lucifer's horns under his feet." The guards seemed to get the picture. The few that had been holding their swords level with her head, lowered them almost immediately. "Likewise, as long as he doesn't resist, the friar isn't to be harmed either," he said, then turned his eyes back to Hermione. Satisfactory?" he asked.   
  
Hermione would rather have had Ginny not be arrested at all, but the promise of humane treatment would have to do for now. She nodded, and in one swift movement, she was pulled up onto Sir Guy's horse so quickly she could have sworn it was by magic. They galloped away, Hermione sitting side-saddle in front of Sir Guy.   
  
_Please let someone get to Ron and Harry. Please don't let anyone get hurt._

**To be a Hero…**

Ron was wearing a path ten feet long in the forest floor. He had been pacing for the past hour, wondering, as Harry had been wondering, where Dumbledore, Hermione and Ginny were. Harry sat practically motionless, leaning his back up against a tree. At each rustle of leaves, each snap of a twig, both of their heads would snap toward the sound, only to find out it was just the wind, or a deer. Each time this happened, it only made their anxiety grow. Harry had a gnawing sensation in his stomach that had been getting worse for the past hour. He couldn't help but think that something had gone wrong, and the fact that Dumbledore couldn't use magic didn't help.   
  
"Where the hell are they?" said Ron, kicking away a small chunk of wood in frustration. Harry wasn't sure. That was part of the problem; he didn't really know what to do next. He supposed they should go to Nottingham in the morning, but if they weren't supposed to and got caught, they'd really be in trouble. He had faith that Dumbledore would send word if he could. He had more or less lost hope that Dumbledore had possibly gotten lost, or that he had stayed behind so Ginny and Hermione could get away and that _they_ were lost. Anything but the gnawing thought that they'd been caught.   
  
"This is driving me mad, I'm going back," said Ron. Harry had just got up to tell him to wait a little longer when one of the Merry Man came tearing out of the thick of the forest.   
  
"Robin," he shouted, slowing down as he saw them. The man stopped in front of Ron and bent over, resting his hands on his knees while he caught his breath. "L-Lady Marion,-" he said, still heaving for air.   
  
"What about her?" Ron asked quickly.   
  
"The men who stayed behind were caught, along with Friar Tuck," he heaved. "They suspect he and Lady Marion's handmaiden were trying to kidnap her. They're all to be executed tomorrow."   
  
_**To be continued…**_


	7. Castle Onslaught

_Harry Potter books, and all characters therein are belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001/2002 Warner bros. In short, they aren't mine, so please don't sue.   
**kkisblpeen@aol.com   
**   
I would like to thank my terrific Beta-reader, Seldes Katne, who didn't scream at me when I broke the world record for most stupid mistakes made in a Fanfiction chapter._

**Once upon a time**   
_By Kirkis_   
**Chapter Seven: Castle Onslaught**

**Planning a castle onslaught**

"Executed!" Ron and Harry said in unison.   
  
"Yes, and that isn't all, Robin. Lady Marion is to marry Sir Guy tomorrow," the breathless man said. Ron snarled in frustration and turned to Harry.   
  
"This damn story! To hell with it, we've got to save them!" he said turning and heading for his horse. Harry figured they might be making a mistake, but he didn't care. He had had just about enough of the story, too. He started after Ron when Will called out to them.   
  
"Hey, any news?" he said, jogging over toward them. Ron answered him without stopping or even taking his eyes off his horse.   
  
"They got Dumbledore and my sister, I'm going after them. If you want to help, come along then," he said bluntly. Will rushed forward to restrain Ron.   
  
"Whoa, you can't go back to Nottingham tonight," said Will. Ron attempted to side step him, but Will kept himself in front of Ron. "At least come up with a plan, Robin!" he shouted as Ron was now trying to force him out of the way. It did seem like a good idea. Though Harry thought it had better be a quick plan.

* * *

Ron was understandably frustrated about having to wait to go after Ginny and Dumbledore. But Harry, who was usually the one to lead, had agreed with Will about making a plan. At least a quick one. Harry knew the man who had come back telling them of the execution and wedding was sent purposely by Prince John or Sir Guy. The point of both the execution and the wedding was to draw out Robin in the open again. But it didn't matter that they knew it was a trap; Ginny and Dumbledore _needed_ to be rescued, and Robin Hood was the only one who could do it. Harry also knew that Robin would end up in a one on one duel with either Prince John or Sir Guy; probably the latter.   
  
Will suggested they build a model of Nottingham's outer courtyard, where the execution was to take place, utilizing as much information they could get from every Merry Man. At first, Ron thought this was a waste of time, but part way through building it, he seemed to realize just how helpful it could be. By the time it was done and they'd begun estimating how many guards would be where, Ron was concentrating on it as if it were a chessboard. It was decided that it would be impossible to get them out tonight. So the plan was to rescue them in the morning.   
  
"So, the prisoners will be brought out from here, and taken to the gallows. It won't be a good idea to make your move as they're being brought out. Best to attack once they're in place on the gallows."   
  
"No, what if we can't get to them in time and they end up getting hanged?" said Ron.   
  
"It's too risky trying to rescue them when they're being brought out. They're guarded and if our men get caught, we're all dead. So our men in front of the gallows will wait till the prisoners are in position. Once they are all set, they'll rush the platform. One or two should cut them loose and the rest should fight off any guards that try to stop you."   
  
'I'll cut them loose," said Ron.   
  
"No, you've got to go after Maid Marion," said Harry.   
  
"Look, I already told you, to hell with the story," Ron snapped.   
  
"I'll cut them loose, Ron. You have to go after Hermione. You're Robin Hood," said Harry. Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry cut him off. "It might be the only way out of this book." Ron stared at Harry for a moment, as if unsure of him. "I'll save Ginny, Ron," Harry added. Ron nodded slowly, then turned back to Will.   
  
"So, while Harry is rescuing the prisoners, what am I doing?" he said. Will bit his lip slightly and looked down at the model.   
  
"Well," he started off. "This balcony here," he pointed out a large balcony off the main Keep, "is where we think the wedding is going to take place. So you'll have a harder fight, really. You've got to break into the Keep, though by the time all the commotion starts, they'll probably have evacuated the balcony."   
  
"Great," said Ron. "Glad it isn't anything difficult." Harry might've laughed if things weren't so serious. A thought came to mind as he looked down at the model.   
  
"Which one of us makes the first move?" he said. Again, Will bit his lip and looked down at the model. Ron, on the other hand, answered almost immediately.   
  
"I do," he said confidently. "It'll draw attention away from the gallows and make your job easier. We'll also need some men to secure an exit, I don't want Ginny hanging around when there's fighting going on."   
  
"This looks like the best exit," said Will. "It's closest to the gallows and-"   
  
"No," interrupted Ron. "Look there. It's right beside the Keep and the doorway from the dungeons. There's probably a soldiers' barracks there," Ron pointed out the darkened spot on one log that represented the door way the prisoners would be coming out of.   
  
"How do you figure that?" asked Will. Harry wondered too.   
  
"Look how close it is to the Keep, to this exit, and that one there," said Ron, pointing to another exit on the far side of the Keep. "That's the best place to put a soldiers' barracks. It'll be too easy for them to bring out reinforcements if we try to take that exit. We should go for this one here," he said pointing to a smaller exit on the opposite corner of the courtyard from the Keep. "It'll be a little further to go, but they won't have as many guards there, _and_ they won't be able to bring more soldiers out once we've taken it." Harry had always marveled at Ron's gift for strategy in wizard chess, and now he felt a small surge of pride that one of his friends had such a great mind for strategy.   
  
"Sounds good, Robin," Harry said, sharing a smile with Ron. "We should probably bring along some extra weapons, too. Once we've freed the other men, they can fight too," he added.   
  
"Oh, yeah," said Will. "That's another thing - security. No doubt they'll have guards at every entrance searching people."   
  
"Damn," Ron snapped. "Now we've got to find a way to sneak weapons in?"   
  
"Wish we would've known ahead of time, the courtyard was probably deserted during the archery tournament," said Harry. "We could've hidden weapons then," he added. Ron elbowed Harry painfully in the side.   
  
"Why couldn't we do it now?" he asked optimistically. "Why can't we go in and hide weapons _now_?"   
  
"The castle's locked up tight as a drum, Robin," Will answered.   
  
"We broke into it before," said Ron. "At the Banquet. Scaled the wall. Remember?" he asked. Will looked down at the model for a moment.   
  
"We should make it a voluntary mission," said Harry. "I'll lead. That way, Robin can get some rest for tomorrow," he added. Ron caught Harry's eye and for a moment it looked like he would protest. But he nodded and looked back toward the model.   
  
"No, you've got the prisoners to rescue tomorrow, John. I'll lead the group into the courtyard tonight," said Will. Harry and Ron didn't argue. Harry had only volunteered himself to hide weapons mainly because he didn't want Ron to try it. "We should probably come up with some ways of hiding weapons on our men in case my group gets caught."   
  
"We'll work on that, you go round up some men for your group," said Harry. Will nodded, sprang up and then trotted off. Harry watched him go then turned back to Ron.   
  
"Ron, I should tell you," Harry started. "You'll have a sword duel with the main villain tomorrow." Ron looked up, horrorstruck.   
  
"A duel," he repeated, glancing back down at the model. "Damn this bloody book!" he hissed and looked up again. "This is all Hermione's fault. If she wasn't such a bookworm…" he left the end of his statement open, but shook his head with a sigh. "If we ever get out of this book, remind me never to speak to Hermione again," he said sarcastically. 

**Morning, too soon**

Dawn came too soon for Ron and Harry. It seemed like they had just fallen asleep when they were awakened by Mrs. Little before the sun was up. The forest was still dark as night when they went down to the Meeting Hall for breakfast. It was much more subdued in the Meeting Hall that morning than it had been for the past week. Everyone knew what was happening today, and what was at stake if they failed.   
  
_Failure isn't an option today,_ Ron thought pushing the food around on his plate. He had more reason to be worried today than any other day he'd been inside the book. He had another fight coming, and not just any fight, a duel with the lead villain of the book. Harry said it was probably the last fight he'd have, and he _had_ to win. But Ron had more to worry about, his sister was scheduled to be hanged today. His stomach did a nauseating lurch as he dwelled a little too long on Ginny's fate. _Harry said he'd save her, and he will,_ Ron thought.   
  
Sometimes Ron forgot that Harry had killed a towering Basilisk and the memory of Tom Riddle to save Ginny's life. This was one of the reasons he agreed to let Harry handle the prisoners. The other was the fact that Harry had faced Voldemort, dueled with him and overpowered the Dark Lord's magic, and still managed to make it back to Hogwarts with Cedric's body. Stuff like that always reminded Ron that Harry _was_ Harry Potter without even trying to be.   
  
Ron hoped Harry Potter would come through today and rescue Ginny and Dumbledore. He kept telling himself that they'd all be fine. Harry had done much better yesterday, when they were forced to fight their way out of Nottingham. The gash on Harry's shoulder had mostly healed and the swordplay practice he had been taking helped a lot.   
  
Today they had to covertly enter Nottingham Castle's outer courtyard; they'd go in one at a time to keep from looking suspicious. After that they had to retrieve the hidden weapons their team had placed there last night. (provided they weren't caught) get into their positions and wait for the right moment. It fell to Ron and his team of Merry Men, who would be assaulting the Keep to rescue Maid Marion, to set everything in motion. They'd make the distraction, giving Harry and his team a chance to cut the nooses from the gallows. Harry said last night that the team was responsible for fighting off any guards, and that he, Harry, would head straight for the gallows.   
  
Ron noticed Harry wasn't eating much either, but then, he rarely ate much before something this big. Harry was forcing down what little he did eat, so Ron figured he should probably force something down too. The last thing he needed was to start getting weak from lack of food right in the middle of his duel. _Eggs and sausages,_ Ron thought, _taste terrible when you have no appetite._   
  
Within no time at all, breakfast was finished and they were heading out for Nottingham just as sunlight was starting to filter in through the trees. The trip through Sherwood Forest seemed much shorter this time. By the time they got to Nottingham, the sun was already shining brightly. They'd managed to come up with a few good ideas for sneaking swords and bows into the Courtyard. One was to wrap them in large bundles of small branches and carry them in. The guards would think it was firewood. Another, was even stranger - bake daggers inside loaves of bread. Harry got the idea from the old Muggle trick of hiding a file in a cake so someone can break out of jail. Bull had the idea to cover a cloak in horse dung and walk straight in with a sword concealed by his side.   
  
The wagon lurched to a stop and all the men clambered out and headed off in different directions.   
  
"Good luck, mate," said Ron turning to Harry.   
  
"You too," he replied and hopped of the wagon heading off toward one of the entrances.

**Unchained**

Albus actually never had trouble going to sleep while standing. It was one of the wonderful things that came naturally with getting older. It was a good thing, too. Because he'd been chained to the wall since the previous evening and hadn't even been given a chance to empty his bladder. Now, with the sun up, he figured now was as good a time as any.   
  
"Excuse me," he said politely to the large, bald Jailer. A grunt was his only reply. "I don't suppose you would unchain me from the wall long enough to relieve myself?" Albus went on.   
  
"You'll have to go there, old man," The Jailer grunted without moving.   
  
"Then I suppose asking you to remove these chains so that I can properly pray would be out of the question?" Albus added. The Jailer turned his head toward the cell. "I was hoping," Albus went on," to pray for the souls of those who are to be hanged today, as they have committed no crime against God." The Jailer stood motionless, searching Albus with his eyes.   
  
"All right, but only a minute or I'll get in trouble for taking those chains off," he said, opening the cell door. He fumbled with his keys until he found the right one. With a click, he unlocked Albus' left arm. Another click, and Albus' right arm was free. The Jailer stepped back a step. "All right, old man, pray," said the Jailer. Albus put on the most benevolent smile he could, and patted the Jailer on the shoulder.   
  
"Forgive me, my son," he said softly. He grabbed the Jailer's shirt tightly and jerked him forward, slamming his head against the wall he had just been chained to. The Jailer slumped senselessly to the floor, knocked cold. "I'm afraid I cannot let those souls be hanged," said Albus, retrieving the keys from the Jailer's limp hand. He slipped stealthily through the cell door and off toward the dungeon's exit.

**Heroism and rescues**

Harry managed to slip past the guards checking people at one of the entrances while carrying one of his dagger-loaves. He had some trouble figuring out where things were, since he'd only had the very crude model they had built to go by. He could tell where the Keep was, and the gallows, but most of the rest was questionable. He found a shady spot to break open the bread and get the dagger out of it. Then tried to determine where the large black hut was, as this was the rendezvous point for his team.   
  
There were five on Harry's team, including himself. They figured there would be a few guards in place in front of the gallows. So four of them would cut a path for Harry to get to the gallows and free Dumbledore, Ginny and the other Merry Men. Harry wandered to where he thought the black hut should be, but all he found was a dilapidated thatch hut, with a cloaked man sitting against it. Harry walked up, hoping he was one of the team members.   
  
"What a day," Harry said nonchalantly to the man. He looked up at Harry and smiled.   
  
"I was beginning to think no one was coming," he said, standing up and dusting off his backside.   
  
"I wasn't sure if this was the right place, it's not really a black hut," said Harry. He was glad he'd found another Merry Man. He was beginning to think they'd all run off. Two more Merry Men arrived a minute later with an extra sword a piece. They gave them both to Harry, as he would be the one to set the other men free. Harry slipped them surreptitiously under his cloak and put them in his belt.   
  
"Did you hear the rumor?" one Merry Man said. Harry and the others shook their heads, so the man went on. "They say King Richard has returned to England and that Prince John has sent an army to capture the King so he, Prince John, can remain in power," he finished. Harry suddenly remembered that it was customary for King Richard to show up at Robin and Marion's Wedding. He thought very little about this as they still had to rescue Marion. Harry was starting to worry they'd attract too much attention in a large group. He told two of them to stay there, and he took the third into the crowd to get into position.   
  
Harry felt like he'd swallowed a few Bludgers. It was impossible to tell when midday was because the sky had gotten overcast. It was probably only an hour off he guessed but his feet were already starting to hurt from standing so long. He hoped Ron could manage to stay out of sight until it was time. Ron would make the first move, and Harry had stressed to him the importance of waiting until the right moment, when the prisoners had been put in place on the gallows. Harry glanced up at the foreboding apparatus. Six nooses hung from a long, thick wooden beam, held up by a massive frame. It was on a raised platform, about six feet off the ground, with one stairway on the side and a pale red awning hanging over top. A stool stood beneath each noose. Harry didn't want to think of what would happen if he didn't succeed. Dumbledore's _and_ Ginny's lives were at stake, and he had no magic to help him out this time.   
  
After about twenty minutes of waiting, trumpets sounded from the balcony high above. _The wedding must be starting,_ Harry thought. _Good, not long now._ The voice of the announcer from the Archery Tournament broke over the crowd.   
  
"Ladies and Gen'lemen, Prince John and the Regent of No'ingham, Lord Guy Gisbourne, welcome you to this 'istoryic event. Today, you'll all witness the marriage of Lord Gisbourne to Lady Marion Fitzwal'er!" There was scattered applause. "You'll also witness the execution of six evil criminals 'oo tried to kidnap Lady Marion from the Archery Tournament jus' yesterday." The crowd seemed more vocal about the execution, most were cheering loudly, but some were booing just as much. "An 'ere they are, Prince John, soon to be King of all England, Lord Guy Gisbourne, Regent of No'ingham, and 'is bride to be, Lady Marion Fitzwal'er."   
  
Harry looked up onto the Balcony. From his low spot on the ground he could just barely make out Prince John's and Sir Guy's heads, and the top of Hermione's hair. They were all waving, Hermione's looked the least enthusiastic. The announcers voice broke over the crowd again.   
  
"An' 'ere are the scurvy evil-doers who are to be executed!" Harry's attention shot toward the sound of the loudest jeers. Guards were emerging from a small doorway near the Keep behind them walked the prisoners, the first two were Merry Men, though not so Merry now. They looked like they'd been beaten and their hands were bound behind their backs.   
  
Ginny was next. The stiff white cloth hood that had been pulled so tightly around her face was gone. Her wild red hair shone even more brightly among the drab colors of the castle courtyard. Her hands were bound behind her back as well and her clothes were dirty and soiled but other than a little dirt on her face, she looked in good health. As she was walked out into the courtyard a shriek echoed from high above. ("**NO!**") Harry looked up above to see Hermione standing at the edge of the balcony pointing down at the prisoners and shouting angrily at Sir Guy. She obviously didn't know Ginny was going to be executed. Harry looked back down to Ginny. She'd stopped and looked up at Hermione, too.   
  
As her eyes shifted back toward the ground, she met Harry's from between the two guards. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but before she could react, she was shoved forward so roughly that she fell forward and tumbled painfully to the ground, landing face first in the mud. Harry's gut reaction was to run forward and help Ginny, and then to turn and beat the guard senseless. But the two guards in front of him made him think twice about going to her. As Ginny was pulled roughly back to her feet by the offending guard, she shot Harry a weak and muddy smile before continuing on to the gallows.   
  
Harry looked over the next two Merry Men, expecting to see Dumbledore, but after the Merry Men came only guards. His mind raced with horrible thoughts. _They didn't already kill Dumbledore did they?_ Harry morbidly wondered how that would sound on the back of a Famous Witch or Wizard card. ("Albus Dumbledore, widely considered one of the most powerful Wizard of his time. He met his demise inside an enchanted book at the hands of fictitious Muggles because Harry Potter and his friends stupidly got sucked into the book.")   
  
The men and Ginny were being led one by one up the stairs and onto the platform. The announcer bellowed out into the crowd as though he were reading the rules for a Quidditch match. "Once the wedding vows are exchanged and the "I do's" said, the execution will take place." Each of the prisoners was led to a stool and ordered to stand on it; Ginny was in the middle.   
  
It suddenly occurred to Harry how very small Ginny looked up there. She was only fourteen, and Sir Guy had ordered her execution. The executioner pulled a black sack over her head. She was barely tall enough to get her head through the noose. Harry felt his stomach contract as this happened. If she slipped, or if the executioner got impatient, she could die before he could get to her. Her dirty white robes looked stark white in comparison to the dull grays and browns all around her.   
  
The ball was now in Ron's court. Everything was set, all he had to do was make the first move. The wedding had apparently started, and though the crowd was quiet, no one could hear what was going on up above on the balcony. Suddenly, A noise erupted from near the base of the Keep. Ron had made his move. The time was now.   
  
As Harry steeled himself to make a break for the gallows, he heard a shout from above that froze his blood.   
  
"Do it _NOW_!" Prince John shouted. Harry barely heard Hermione shout in protest as he fixed his eyes on the executioner, now kicking the stool out from under the first Merry Man. The man dropped and immediately started kicking, groping with his feet for something to stand on. Harry bolted forward but was snagged on both sides as the two guards in front of him grabbed his arms. He wrestled to get free, watching the executioner head toward the next man. Harry felt one of the guards beside him move away, a second later he heard blades clanging together. The sound seemed so far off as he watched the executioner kick out another stool.   
  
Ginny was next. Harry wrenched himself free of the last guard and broke into a flat out run toward the stairs at the side of the gallows. The executioner was approaching Ginny's stool. Harry felt a tug on his cloak, but he didn't stop to see what it was. He let it rip as he drove himself forward. He felt his cloak come away from his left side so he turned himself so his right arm would slip right out of the sleeve. The executioner was drawing back his foot. Harry felt like his legs were made of lead. Another guard stepped in Harry's way a few feet ahead. Harry knew he wouldn't be able to get past.   
  
"_Get the bloody hell out of the way_!" he roared, raising his dagger over his head. The guard didn't budge, but instead leveled his sword. Everything seemed to freeze in the next moment. Harry heard with perfect clarity, through all the sword clanging, and confused shouts of the crowd, the lone sound of a stool toppling off the platform of the gallows. Harry looked up to the gallows and to his horror, and saw a small figure in white robes dangling on a thick rope, twitching and kicking vainly. He roared as he lunged forward and slashed with his dagger at the side of the guard's head. Slow on the uptake, the guard wasn't prepared, and he stumbled sideways under the force of Harry's blow.   
  
With little thought, Harry slammed into the guard, but he didn't wait to see if he'd knocked him over. He didn't even slow up; tearing across the muddy courtyard to the stairs, rounding the rail (and getting splinters in his hand as he did) and charging up the stairs three at a time. The executioner had kicked the stool out from under the second to last man when Harry topped the steps. Upon seeing Harry, the executioner went for his axe, but Harry was already half way across the gallows. He shoved the executioner, who was already off balance from trying to pick up a huge axe, and sent him reeling off the platform. Without hesitation, he reached high and sawed the rope above Ginny's head until it snapped, sending her tumbling to the platform. He had a split second to wonder if he was too late. Then she coughed and gasped for breath.   
  
It was like someone had spun the speed control knob on a pair of Omnioculars back to normal. He could suddenly hear everything once again, too. He had time enough to think he should cut Ginny's bindings and get that awful black sack off her head just before the sound of approaching guards caught his ears. He looked up to see a dozen guards headed toward the gallows. He needed help, he needed the men who were still hanging. He quickly cut the men down, cutting the last one's bindings and handing the dagger to him.   
  
"Here," said Harry. "Cut the men loose. Here's an extra sword," he said, handing one of the extra swords to the man. Harry turned quickly back to Ginny. Before he'd gotten to her, he heard a loud snapping sound. He looked around to see where it had come from. The faded red awning hanging over the gallows was slowly drifting downward; the Merry Man he'd given his dagger to had cut one of the supporting lines that held it up. Harry turned his attention back to Ginny, kneeling down and pulling the black sack off her head. Tousled flame-red hair fell around her pink face. She looked up at him, her eyes looking much deeper than they usually looked. For a moment they just stared at each other as the red awning floated down around them. The sounds around them seemed strangely muffled from under the red cloth. In the din, Harry thought if he were the hero of the story, and Ginny were the Heroine, they would kiss here. His stomach gave a strange flop at this thought.   
  
"Er, Harry," Ginny said in a raspy voice. "My hands," she finished, turning slightly to show that her hands were still bound behind her back.   
  
"Oh, right," Harry said sheepishly, remembering he was supposed to cut her free. He pulled out one of the spare swords and clumsily cut the ropes binding her hands. "You're all right, aren't you? I mean, they didn't hurt you?" he asked as he helped her up.   
  
"Only a little, just some slaps and pushing around," Ginny said dismissively. "We've got to help Hermione," she added. A sudden burst of loud metal clanging came from the stairway leading off the platform.   
  
"Ron's taking care of that," Harry immediately answered, taking Ginny's hand. "Where's Dumbledore?" he asked as he searched for the edge of the platform.   
  
"I don't know, he was arrested with me, I thought he was to be executed, too," Ginny answered, catching on to what Harry must be doing. "Over here?" she said, pointing to the visible edge of the platform.   
  
"Yeah, thanks," Harry answered. He dropped down off the edge then helped Ginny down. Now all they needed to do was make it to the exit.

* * *

Everything was set and It was up to Ron to make the first move. He had found the perfect spot to mount an offensive from. Someone had parked a wagon of hay right beside the main gate into the Keep. When the time was right he could burst out from behind it, run half way into the gate and make a decent distraction. He had two dozen Merry Men here and there throughout the crowd. They could help keep the guards busy while Ron and a handful of men broke into the Keep.   
  
"Once the wedding vows are exchanged and the "I do's" said, the execution will take place." said the announcer. It was now or never.   
  
"Harry'll save her," he repeated to himself. He then nodded to one of the men he could see, who in turn, nodded to another. After taking a deep breath, Ron stepped out from behind the wagon and casually made his way through the gate. Four other men followed, all walking as if they were walking across a street. They were in. If the portcullis was lowered now, Ron would still be inside the Keep. Now all he had to do was provide a distraction.   
  
"Oi!" he shouted to the small mass of guards they'd slipped by. "Some guards you are, get your heads out of your arses!" he shouted. Just as they turned to charge, six more Merry Men poured out from behind the wagon. The guards hesitated and then charged forward. Ron had time to see a few more Merry Men emerge from the crowd behind the guards before Will urged him to turn and head into the Keep.   
  
The first few minutes were quiet. Ron, Will and the Merry Men went up two floors into the Keep before they met any resistance. But this resistance was light, pathetically light. More pathetically light guards came as they ascended into the Keep. Will had counted the number of windows going up the Keep, and determined that the balcony must be on the sixth floor. They only had two more to go, but Ron wondered what was to stop Sir Guy from taking Hermione off the sixth floor and dragging her all the way to the top of the Keep.   
  
By the time they had reached the sixth floor, Ron and Will had left the rest of the Merry Men behind on previous floors to fight the guards. They burst out onto the balcony to find it deserted.   
  
"C'mon, Robin," said Will, tugging Ron's sleeve. But Ron had to see. He could probably see the gallows from up here. He ran out across the wide balcony to the edge and looked down. The gallows were now covered by a huge faded red cloth that had once been suspended overhead. "C'mon!" Will said again. Ron started to turn but someone slipping out from under the red cloth at the front of the gallows caught his eye. It was Harry. A moment later, Ginny dropped down out from under the cloth. They took off across the courtyard toward the far exit. Ron would've loved to have stayed and made sure Harry and Ginny made it out of the castle all right, but he needed to move on. His mind a little more at ease, he headed back toward Will, who was waiting in the doorway.

* * *

Ginny ran as fast as she could to keep up with Harry. Her chest still burned from nearly being strangled, and it hurt her throat to run so fast. But she wasn't going to tell him to slow down. Not when her mind was racing at full speed with Harry's hand clasped firmly onto hers. Even though she knew this was necessary, it didn't mean Harry liked her. But still, it felt so good to have her hand wrapped in his.   
  
She was almost breathless as he pulled her away from the fight, away from danger. She didn't have the air to protest, to say she had to help her brother. Even if she did have the air, she wasn't sure she would say it. The way Harry had said "Ron's taking care of that," sounded so confident. Like Harry _knew_ Ron could do it. So she followed Harry.   
  
Part way across the courtyard, Harry looked back over his shoulder at her. "Not going too fast, am I?" he huffed. Ginny's head shook no involuntarily. The truth was, he was going too fast for her. She was just barely keeping herself from falling forward. His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer. Maybe that was why he didn't see the guard step out from behind one of the huts. She tired to warn him but the only thing that came out was a faint yelp amid gasps for breath. Fortunately, it was enough; Harry looked back to his front in time to see the guard. He stopped, catching Ginny and the two of them tumbled forward, Ginny landing on top of Harry.   
  
He groaned and opened his eyes; a little at first then he flung them open and shoved her hard off of him, smashing one of his hands painfully into her breast. She rolled away and held herself tightly in a vain attempt to ease the pain. She looked where Harry had been, only to find that he too had rolled away, in the other direction. The guard had swung his mace down right on the spot where they both had just been lying. Harry scrambled to his feet and pulled out his sword, which looked almost as big as he was.   
  
The guard smirked and lunged forward, swinging his mace toward Harry's head. Harry blocked with his sword, but the force of the blow knocked it out of his hands. Before he could pick it up, the guard slammed his foot down on it and swung again toward Harry, who was forced to hop back out of the way. He hopped back a little too far and toppled over a low fence into a pig sty. The guard jumped over the fence and landed on top of Harry, trying to push his mace against Harry's throat and choke him.

* * *

  
  
Harry landed hard on his back. He looked up to see the guard he'd been fighting leap over the low fence and land on all fours on top of him. _He's trying to strangle me,_ thought Harry as the guard pushed the shaft of his mace downward. Harry tried in vain to hold it off, but the guard was much bigger than he was, and much stronger. After a few seconds resistance, Harry felt the shaft of the mace pressing down on his throat harder and harder. He found that he couldn't breathe, and gagged trying to push the mace away with all his might. But it wouldn't budge. Harry was starting to feel dizzy as he looked up at the guard. He gagged loudly and pushed against the mace again. He _had_ to get out of this, he _had_ to save Ginny.   
  
Harry could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness when suddenly the pressure was eased, and Harry found that he could push the mace away. He looked up and saw that the guard was bleeding out of his mouth; it looked like he'd bitten his tongue. He slumped over to Harry's left and Harry, half dizzy sat part way up. Ginny was standing over him, a great pork shoulder dangling from her hands. She'd knocked the guard cold. She dropped it at her feet and put out her hand to help him up.   
  
"Thanks," he choked out. She smiled at him as he massaged his throat. _Now I know what Ginny must've gone through_, he thought.   
  
"Are you all right?" she asked. But Harry wasn't looking at her anymore. He was looking over her shoulder at the mass of guards that had spread out behind them. They were surrounded.   
  
_**To be concluded…**_


	8. The Happy Ending

_Harry Potter books, and all characters therein are belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001/2002 Warner bros. In short, they aren't mine, so please don't sue.   
**kkisblpeen@aol.com   
**   
I'd like to thank my Super Beta-Reader, Seldes Katne for all the work she's put in on this Fanfiction. I couldn't have gotten through it without her help._

**Once upon a time**   
_By Kirkis_   
**Chapter Eight: The Happy Ending**

**Enter the Bumblebee**

"There's no way out," said Ginny. Harry didn't know what to do. He had to protect Ginny, but all he had was a sword that was too big for him. Why hadn't he kept his dagger? There was no place to go, no escape route. The pigpen was built against the outer wall of the castle and there were huts on either side. Harry bent down and picked up his sword, and brandished it in front of him. He turned his head halfway toward Ginny and spoke in a whisper.   
  
"First chance you get, make a run for it," he said. She shook her head.   
  
"No, I'll get the mace. I'll help-" she started, but Harry interrupted her.   
  
"No, I promised Ron I'd get you out. You've got to get-" Harry was distracted by a low rumbling sound coming from the gate near the back of the Keep. A moment later, a wagon bowled out of the gate with an old man in brown robes and long silver hair and an equally long beard driving.   
  
"Dumbledore!" Harry and Ginny said in unison. The wagon drove toward them, forcing the surrounding guards to scatter.   
  
"Whoa!" shouted Dumbledore. The horses cantered to a stop and the wagon slid sideways a few feet, stopping a few steps from Harry and Ginny. "You looked like you could use some help," said Dumbledore. "I don't think Prince John will mind our borrowing one of his wagons." Harry dropped his sword and he and Dumbledore helped Ginny up into the wagon. As Harry stepped up to get in, he noticed all the guards had regrouped and were heading toward the wagon's other side. He started to drop back down, but Dumbledore pulled him quite forcefully up into the wagon.   
  
"_I_ will take care of these gentlemen, Little John," he said, and before Harry could say anything, Dumbledore had hopped down off the wagon armed with nothing but a long staff. Harry hopped off the other side of the wagon to retrieve his sword from the ground. As he was climbing back up, Dumbledore spoke to the guards. "Anyone who does not wish to visit the doctor is free to leave now," he said.   
  
Just as Harry was getting ready to jump down with Dumbledore, the first guard charged forward. Dumbledore had thrust his staff out, slamming it into the guard's face. A second later, every surrounding guard closed in on them. Harry's mouth fell open as he watched the unimaginable. Dumbledore knew martial arts. He moved fluidly about flipping, and jabbing his staff at the attacking guards. Harry took a sidelong glace at Ginny; her mouth was hanging open too. She glanced up and met Harry's eyes.   
  
"Where did he-"Ginny started to asked, but Harry just slowly shook his head.   
  
"It looks like Kung Fu or something. Martial arts," he said, watching Dumbledore kick the staff at one guard while he punched another, and then catch the staff after it bounced back off the first guard's chest.   
  
"What's Kung Fu, or whatever you called it? Martial art?" asked Ginny as Dumbledore used the staff like a vaulting pole, kicking one of the guards in the chin.   
  
"This is weird," Harry commented, smiling at Ginny. "This is like stuff out of Chinese films," he said. "Martial arts, it's er… it's a Muggle fighting skill that's supposed to be really efficient if you know what you're doing. He watched as Dumbledore spun the staff in front of him once then let the end rest on the ground as he glared at the each of the last three guards in turn. "Which Dumbledore obviously does," Harry finished, wondering where his Headmaster had learned Kung Fu.   
  
The three guards charged all at once. Dumbledore flipped the staff back up, holding it horizontally in front of him. One guard threw his sword toward Dumbledore, which he easily dodged. Another dropped back as the last came in close, swinging his sword downward as the guard who'd thrown his sword charged in with his dagger drawn. Dumbledore jabbed the guard with the sword in the chest with the end of the staff, then immediately swung it around and cracked the one with the dagger in the mouth. Both guards fell to the ground within a second of each other. Dumbledore straightened up, once again, resting the staff on the ground, and peering at the last guard. For a few seconds he stood motionless, then he tossed his sword quite casually to the ground and walked off toward the Keep.   
  
"Well," said Dumbledore turning back toward the wagon. "Quite invigorating." He looked as though he'd barely broken a sweat. As Dumbledore climbed back into the wagon, Harry realized that he now had a new level of respect for him.   
  
"Sir," said Ginny. "That was _brilliant_! Where did you learn that?" She still had her mouth partially open, and Harry only just realized he did too.   
  
"In my youth, I spent a few years in a monastery in Tibet. The monks who lived there were kind enough to teach me their self-defense arts," he said brightly. "Little John, I expect you'll want to go and help Robin," he said, taking up the reigns. Harry remembered that he'd promised to get Ginny out of danger, but after seeing Dumbledore fight, he once again figured wherever Dumbledore happened to be was probably the safest place around. He nodded and the wagon jerked forward with a whistle from Dumbledore.

Duel to the Death

Ron had been forced to leave Will behind on the ninth floor. They'd caught up with Sir Guy, who was dragging Hermione behind him. There were too many guards protecting him, so Ron slipped through the door that led to the north tower, the same door Sir Guy had taken. He ran up the twisting staircase, dodging all sorts of debris that Sir Guy kept dropping, or rather hurling down the stairs at him. Small statues, still-burning torches, chairs, and even a small table.   
  
Hermione was helping as much as possible. She was fighting to get free the whole time Sir Guy was pulling her along. She also would try to wrestle the things he was throwing down the stairs away from him. They were just around the bend and Ron only caught sight of them when Sir Guy stopped to throw something.   
  
After what seemed like seven floors worth of stairs, Sir Guy ducked into a room. Ron tried to follow but the door slammed in his face. Luckily, or unluckily, it slammed on his foot also. Ron stuck his sword in the slim crack in the door to keep Sir Guy from closing it behind him. After a few moments of trying to force the door shut, Sir Guy gave up. The door fell open and Ron tumbled forward only to feel the door slam back against him, knocking him back out onto the stairs. He crawled quickly to his feet, fearing Sir Guy would bar the door.   
  
The door slammed most of the way shut, but Ron had dropped his sword when he had been knocked back, and it had fallen in the doorway. This time, when Ron hit the door it burst open on the first try and bounced off the wall behind it. He picked up his sword, careful to stay out of the path of the door in case it got slammed back.   
  
A shriek from somewhere in the back of the room told Ron where Sir Guy had gone. He ran toward Hermione's cries and found a stairway near the back of the room, partially hidden behind a tapestry. It was much more narrow and steep than the other stairway. It wound tighter too and the ceiling was so low that Ron had to crouch the entire way up. It emptied out into what looked like the Owlery at Hogwarts, a wide room with straw on the floor and lots of rafters above.   
  
Sir Guy suddenly shouted in pain from behind Ron and Hermione cried out, "Over here!" Ron spun around just in time to see Sir Guy slap Hermione, hard. The force of his blow knocked her into one of the thick stone pillars that held up the roof. Her head hit the stone with a sickening thud. She dropped to the ground, a small trickle of blood running down between her eyes.   
  
Suddenly Ron forgot that he was in a story, he forgot that the man before him was probably written to be a swordfighter, and that he, Ron, was only a fifteen-year-old wizard who knew very little about swordplay. He heard himself say, "You'll pay for that, you fat bastard!" and he lunged forward, slashing aggressively at Sir Guy, who parried each attack. Ron was driving Sir Guy backward, but he hadn't connected at all. Sir Guy seemed to think it was funny, which only made Ron angrier. Ron was nearing exhaustion. Maybe some of the initial rage of seeing one of his best friends being backhanded into a stone wall had worn off, because it suddenly occurred to Ron what Sir Guy was doing. He was forcing Ron to come at him. The entire trip had been like this. Unfortunately, Ron realized too late. He hung back on the next attack hoping to start wearing Sir Guy out a little. Sir Guy extended his sword toward Ron and when he moved to block, Sir Guy flicked his wrist stiffly and to Ron's great surprise, his sword was pulled right out of his hand.   
  
"Touché, Robin," Sir Guy started. Ron quickly wondered if Muggle villains did the same thing as typical wizard story villains and talk for who knew how long before making the killing blow. He decided to chance it. As Sir Guy opened his mouth to speak again, Ron lurched forward, throwing a punch at him. Ron's fist landed square on Sir Guy's nose, which cracked loudly. He stumbled backward, groping at his nose with his free hand, giving Ron enough time to find his sword. Ron retrieved his sword from the floor and turned as Sir Guy charged forward, his face a bloody mess. Ron parried just in time, but the force of the full grown man's sword swing nearly knocked him off his feet. Sir Guy threw slash after slash toward Ron, who was being driven backward, barely blocking each swing.   
  
Finally, with a powerful downward swing, Ron's sword broke. Sir Guy smirked, and leveled his sword. Ron backed up until he nearly toppled over a ledge. He looked back over his shoulder to find a large gaping window. He saw far enough down to know he didn't want to fall out. They were every bit as high up as the Owlery.   
  
"So, Hood," said Sir Guy, haughtily. Ron wondered if he could get by with punching him again. "You didn't really think a fair maiden like Marion would end up with such a poor outlaw like yourself?" The taunt stung Ron, more personally than usual. Sir Guy's tone reminded him of Draco Malfoy. Sir Guy held the sword level with Ron's heart and thrust it forward. Ron jumped aside in the nick of time as the sword grazed his chest. Sir Guy twisted his body to swing the sword toward Ron again, but his momentum carried him toward the window. He tripped on the same ledge Ron had nearly fallen over and tumbled forward. In an instant, Ron reacted and stepped forward, catching the collar of his coat. Ron braced himself by propping a leg up against the edge of the window. As Sir Guy started to tumble out the window, he turned as his coat was pulled taut, so that he was facing Ron.   
  
For a moment, they both remained motionless, Ron holding up Sir Guy and Sir Guy teetering on the edge of the window, kept from falling only by Ron, who had hold of his coat collar. Then Sir Guy gritted his teeth in anger and pulled a knife out of his belt, making a move to stab Ron with it. On instinct, Ron let go of Sir Guy's collar and hopped backward. The knife passed inches from his chest, but Sir Guy now had nothing to hold on to. He shrieked as he started to fall out the window. Ron made a fruitless attempt to grab him again, but his fingers just missed the coat and a second later Sir Guy was falling away. Ron realized he did _not_ want to see what happened when Sir Guy hit the ground. He ducked his head back inside, and despite being so high up, he still heard the dull thud of the body landing.   
  
It took him a moment to shake off the nausea that had washed over him. He reminded himself several times that Sir Guy was a fictitious character, that he was part of the book, and not real. He stood by the window for a few minutes just trying to get his head straight. It wasn't until Hermione began to stir that he moved. He hurried across the room, dropping to his knees beside her. She sat up shakily, bringing a hand to her forehead, which had stopped bleeding.   
  
"Are you all right?" Ron asked her. She looked oddly at him, then nodded, wincing in pain. "Let me see that cut," Ron said, not bothering to wait for her approval. She didn't protest or resist him at all. He lifted her bangs to find a small bruised and bloodied spot about the size of a sickle. She glanced around the room a little, then spoke.   
  
"Where is Sir Guy?" she asked softly. Ron glanced back over his shoulder to the gaping hole of the window, then turned back to answer.   
  
"Fell," he said shakily. "Fell out the window." She looked over at the window and then back to Ron. He swallowed. Would she think he'd pushed him or stabbed him and threw him out? "I tried to catch him," Ron started but hesitated as he looked at Hermione. Even through his anxiety, he noticed she really looked good, even with the ugly little injury just under her bangs. He wished he could know for sure if she liked him. "We should probably go," said Ron trying not to think too hard about her feelings for him.

**Return of the King**

Harry was halfway up the Keep when Ron and Hermione met him coming down. There was an awkward moment between them as this was the first time in nearly ten days that they could act somewhat normal together. Ron was trying to help Hermione walk, though she swore she didn't need any help. Ron's first question to Harry was predictable.   
  
"Where's Ginny?" he asked. Hermione also seemed interested in the answer.   
  
"With Dumbledore," Harry answered. Ron looked a little wary.   
  
"Are you sure they're safe?" he asked uncertainly.   
  
"Yes, definitely," answered Harry, and he set off telling them how he'd rescued Ginny. Ron nearly choked with laughter when Harry got to the part where Ginny whomped the guard with a pork shoulder. They had walked slowly descended the spiraling staircase as they talked and had just reached the second floor when Will's voice echoed up the stairs.   
  
"Robin!!" he shouted, charging up the stairs toward them. "Robin!"   
  
"I'm all right, Will," Ron said as Will appeared from around the bend of the staircase.   
  
"Of course you are," said Will dismissively. "That's not it, come on! You won't believe it!" Ron, Harry and Hermione shared a look and answered in unison.   
  
"What?"   
  
"King Richard returned, _with_ his army. You know Prince John sent troops to capture him, right? But the King got wind of it and his army was prepared, Prince John's troops were overpowered. The King came straight to Nottingham when he got word that his favorite cousin was going to be married to Sir Guy Gisbourne. By the way, where is Sir Guy?" he asked. Ron shot a glance toward Harry before he answered.   
  
"He fell out of the tower," said Ron quickly. Will grinned.   
  
"Fell, eh?" he said, as if he knew something the rest of them didn't.   
  
"Yeah, he just fell, okay?" Ron said defensively.   
  
"Okay, okay," Will said, continuing on down the stairs.   
  
"Once he arrived in Nottingham," he went on. "King Richard ordered his army to take the castle and ordered all castle guards to surrender. Any guard who didn't surrender to the seal of the King was to be arrested. Any guard who fought was to be killed. Oh yeah," said Will, turning to Hermione. "Sister Ophelia wanted me to tell you she's all right. She's waiting with Friar Tuck."   
  
"Thank you," said Hermione.   
  
As they headed through the gate leading to the courtyard, they ran into a very harassed looking man with a Royal Soldier.   
  
"Halt!" said the soldier as they approached. "State your name and business," he added irritably.   
  
"Chancellor," said Will. "Here is Lady Marion." He gently pulled Hermione to the front. "She was saved by Sir Robin Locksley." The Chancellor's whole demeanor changed at this. His face brightened, and he puffed his chest up like Percy.   
  
"Lady Marion, if you'll come with me?" he asked, putting his hand behind Hermione's elbow as if to guide her. "And you, Lord Locksley. The King is very fond of his cousin. I'm sure he'll want to meet the hero who saved her." Ron shot Harry an odd look and headed off with them. Harry and Will followed behind them. The Chancellor led them a few yards away in the direction of the gallows, which were now half collapsed and burning. There, Harry could see Ginny, highly visible in her dingy white robes and hair as bright red as the flames eating the gallows. Beside her was Dumbledore, who was talking to a man that Harry hadn't seen before. The man was wearing a long blue cape that went almost all the way down to his feet. Harry couldn't see much more of him, except that he wore a golden helmet on his head.   
  
"My Liege," said the Chancellor as they approached, "we've found Lady Marion! And the man who rescued her!" The man in the golden helmet turned toward them, and Harry realized that _this_ must be King Richard. He wore gold armor that covered most of his body and there was a blue crest across the breastplate. When he saw them, King Richard rushed forward. Will, Harry and Ron all lowered themselves to one knee.   
  
"Cousin!" he cried happily. "Marion! You're all right?" he said, scooping her into a tight hug. Hermione looked somewhat winded when he let her go. "I was so worried when I heard John had arranged a marriage for you. You know I've always wanted to give you away, dear."   
  
"It wasn't so bad. Robin saved me," she said, looking down at Ron.   
  
"Oh yes, of course," he said whimsically. "Rise." Harry, Ron and Will stood back up straight. "So, you're the one, eh?" he said to Ron, taking a step toward him and looking him over. "Bit young," he said casually. "But then my cousin is young too, isn't she," he said shooting a happy grin toward Hermione. "Yes, you two look like a perfect pair." Hermione blushed a little at this, and Ron's ears went red. Richard marveled at them for a moment, then took a quick breath. "Well, Lord Locksley," he started, turning toward Ron, "if there is anything you wish, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask."   
  
Harry leaned forward toward Ron, not wanting to take the chance that Ron might not ask. "Ask for Marion's hand in marriage," he whispered into Ron's ear, which went even redder than before. Ron cleared his throat and spoke, somewhat higher than usual.   
  
"I only ask for your cousin's hand in marriage," he said as if he had rehearsed it. Hermione, like Ron's ears, grew redder. At this point it occurred to Harry that this might be exactly what Ron and Hermione needed to get the ball rolling. They'd done a lousy job of it so far, with everything that happened last year. Richard turned to Hermione and spoke.   
  
"Does your heart belong to him, and only him?" he asked solemnly. Hermione went redder than the awning that fell over the gallows and nodded, speaking in a quiet tone.   
  
"Yes."   
  
"Then by all means, Lord Locksley! You both shall have my blessings," he said, then smiled wide. "As long as I get to give away the bride." He shot a wink at Hermione then clapped his hands together. "Well, that just about wraps things up here," he said happily.   
  
"Ahem. Your brother, sire?" said the Chancellor.   
  
"Oh, yes. Of course," said Richard turning toward Ron, Harry and Will. "None of you have seen-"   
  
"Excuse me, your Majesty, but if you are searching for a man in a light blue coat and large plumed hat, I believe he is trying to escape by using one of the Nottingham Guard's horses," said Dumbledore. "I saw him heading into the stables earlier."   
  
"Ah, yes. Thank you, er… Friar-" Richard started.   
  
"Tuck, your Majesty," Dumbledore finished for him. Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling as he spoke.   
  
"Tuck, that's right. Friar Tuck," Richard said conclusively. He then turned to Ron. "Lord Locksley. I wonder if you would be willing to join me?" he said, waiting as Ron turned toward Harry.   
  
"You're coming too, right?" asked Ron.   
  
"Sure," said Harry unsurely.

**Wrapping things up**

They headed around the Keep toward the gate behind it that led into the stables. There was a partial wooden roof over the stable area and straw all over the ground. The stables were huge. The Dursleys' house on Privet Drive would've fit inside it five or six times. On one side there was a two-story tall shed that housed wagons and large carriages. Along the other side were thirty or forty smaller stalls for horses. Near the far end of the stables they found what they were looking for. A white horse was stepping about in a circle, perpetually moving away from a man in a light blue coat and an exuberant plumed hat, who had his foot stuck in one stirrup. He was bouncing around in a circle beside the horse, trying to climb on.   
  
"Going somewhere, brother?" asked Richard coldly as they approached. Prince John looked up and fear poured onto his face before he could replace it with a false smile.   
  
"Richard, brother! You've returned safely at long last," said Prince John, still hopping in circles with the horse.   
  
"Yes, I'm back. Tell me, was the welcoming party _your_ idea?" asked Richard, walking casually toward him. Harry and Ron walked a few steps behind him. Ron didn't feel the least bit casual toward Prince John. Harry had told them how _he'd_ ordered the prisoners hanged before it was time. Not to mention he had probably put Ginny out there in the first place.   
  
"Well, i-it was Guy Gisbourne, actually," Prince John stuttered, sounding a little like Pettigrew. "See, I found out he'd kidnapped cousin Marion and was trying to force her to marry him. I knew you'd be worried, so I-   
  
"Save it, John!" barked Richard. "You've been after my throne for years, and you thought while I was away you'd marry off Marion and that would make you the only person with Royal blood in England." Richard turned toward Ron and Harry. "What should I do with him, Lord Locksley? Jail him? Execute him?" Ron took one look at the pathetic fool before him, still hopping on one foot in circles with the stubborn horse. He was strongly reminded of what happened in his third year with Pettigrew, and what Pettigrew went on to do. But then again, Prince John hadn't done anything as horrible as betray his friends to the darkest wizard of all time.   
  
"He's not really worth the effort, is he?" he said to Richard, who smiled.   
  
"No, not really, is he?" said Richard. He slapped the white horse on the hindquarters and it took off with Prince John's foot still hung in the stirrup. The horse dragged him along for a few yards before his boot slipped off his foot. He tumbled to a stop and slowly sat up, wincing at a pain in his elbow.   
  
"Bring him along, if you please," said Richard brightly. "He has a few apologies to make, and a dungeon cell to occupy." 

**Last night in Nottingham (we hope)**

The rest of the day was a blur. Prince John was made to apologize in person to almost everyone in the castle, and Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Dumbledore finally got a chance to talk at length about the book, and what was to happen next. As it turns out, the only thing left in the story was the one part Ron had been dreading most of all: The Wedding. They had managed to convince Richard to let them have the wedding the next day, even though there would be no grand decorations, sending of invitations or rehearsals.   
  
Dumbledore had noted something interesting when he was drawn in. Harry and Ron had told him they'd been in the book for about a day and a half, when in reality, they'd only been missing from the Burrow for roughly six hours. That meant that if all went well tomorrow, and they managed to get out of the book with no trouble, then they would have only spent about two days or so inside the book.   
  
They were all given very posh rooms inside Nottingham Castle, and, to Ron's immense joy, they were given more suitable clothes. He promptly got himself a pair of trousers. Ron and Harry shared a room, with two large four-poster beds. To Harry, it almost felt like being back at Hogwarts. Dumbledore said that only about ten days had passed within the book. It had felt more like ten weeks. It was confusing to think that only a day and a half had passed out in the Burrow. It would be odd to have such a long experience when to the rest of the Weasleys, they had just been gone a day.   
  
Harry hoped that Ron wouldn't lose his nerve tomorrow. He reminded Ron that it was only a story and that they _had_ to get out. He hoped above all other hopes that Ron and Hermione wouldn't get up there at the altar and split into a row right in the cathedral. He drifted off to sleep, happy that he, for once, wasn't the one under all the pressure.

**The Wedding**

Hermione had forced sleep that night and yawned her way through breakfast. From there, she was whisked away to a dressing chamber where five women clamored around her taking her measurements and sewing like there was no tomorrow.   
  
_If we're lucky_ Hermione thought, _there won't be a tomorrow here._   
  
Ginny stuck by Hermione, offering her opinion and generally trying to keep Hermione's head screwed on straight. She was a lot happier today than she had been for the rest of the time they'd been in the book. King Richard had suggested that she wear a dress instead of the constrictive habit she had been wearing. He also felt she shouldn't cover her hair. ("Your hair is vibrant like this for a reason, Sister Ophelia. You should let all the world see the beautiful hair God has given you.") So today she was dressed in a simple white dress with nothing covering her head.   
  
Hermione's wedding gown was turning out to be anything but simple. Every time they brought it back to fit it to her, it had more lace, or more jewels, or more everything. She would be wearing a silk petticoat under the wedding gown, one of the women had made a beautiful veil, and the train was seven or eight feet long.   
  
The wedding was scheduled for mid-afternoon, and unlike the wedding to Sir Guy, this one would be held in the cathedral on the far end of Nottingham Castle. It had been filling for most of the morning and was practically packed by midday. Once everyone was seated, it was time for Hermione to get into place so she could enter and walk down the aisle. She was led down a flight of stairs, to a corridor that must've ran the length of the cathedral, then back up another flight of stairs and out a door. She ended up in front of the two large inner doors that lead into the cathedral.   
  
Hermione peeked through the large oak doors to get a look at the crowd inside. Most everyone in Nottingham was there, including all the Merry Men. Far down at the altar, she could see Ron standing with Harry. They looked older from far away, Ron especially. The aisle looked like it was longer than the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch; how would she ever get all the way down there?   
  
"Marion, dear?" said Richard, joining her from the lower level corridor she'd taken earlier. "Are you ready?" he said. She nodded, feeling a jolt in her stomach. _Everything will be okay,_ she thought, as she took King Richard's arm. _Ron and I both know that we have to get out of this book and this is the_ only_ way._ Her stiffened nerves faltered when the great oak doors were swung open and the sound of a choir singing echoed through the cathedral.   
  
"Here we go," said Richard, taking a step forward. _No, wait! I'm not ready!_ Hermione thought as her feet reluctantly carried her forward. She picked a spot in the ornate stained glass window above the altar and concentrated on it and not on the tall, redhead standing at the altar. She kept reminding herself to take each forward step and not to trip over her gown. She walked down the long aisle with the choir echoing in the vaulted ceiling and her own footsteps pounding in her ears until finally, she reached the first row of pews. Richard held her hand as she stepped up to the altar. The Archbishop, who was waiting on the pulpit for them, cleared his throat and started.   
  
"Men and Ladies fair, we are gathered here today to witness the union of these two people in the bonds of Holy Matrimony. They have come here, to kneel before God and ask for his blessing upon their union," said the Archbishop. Hermione could feel her cheeks getting warmer as the Archbishop spoke. She decided to chance a sidelong glance at Ron. He looked about the same way she felt, like he was ready to bolt for the door any minute. She turned her eyes back to the Archbishop, her mind repeating over and over. _This isn't a real wedding. You can do this, Hermione!_   
  
"Have you the ring?" said the Archbishop. _When did he get that far into the ceremony? _Hermione frantically thought. Harry handed Ron the ring and then stepped back away from the altar. Ron took Hermione's hand, which suddenly felt as though her skin had been electrified. Ron's hand was warm and damp from perspiration. She was supposed to look at him for this part. Her eyes slowly panned up his neck, past his mouth but she couldn't force them any higher than his nose.   
  
The Archbishop slowly, passage by passage, had Ron to repeat the vows. The Archbishop was reciting all the vows Hermione had ever heard of from every wedding she'd read about in books. And Ron was repeating them, in a high, quiet sort of voice she'd only heard him use once or twice, when he was really scared. Her head was spinning at the sound of him repeating all those promises to love, to be faithful, no matter what. Her hand was a jumble of extra sensitive nerves as Ron, _no, Robin,_ slid the ring onto her finger.   
  
But then the Archbishop turned to _her,_ and it was _her_ turn to make those promises. Hermione suddenly felt a lump of fear in her stomach. She'd always thought she'd only marry once, and that when she spoke her vows, she'd _mean_ them. She was only fourteen, and fiction or not, it felt all too real. She wasn't sure she could go through with it.   
  
"Have you the ring?" he asked. Ginny emerged from somewhere behind her and gave her a heavy and rather warm gold ring. She took Ron's hand in her own, which now felt numb, and poised the ring at his finger.   
  
"With this ring, I thee wed," said the Archbishop. _Acting, Hermione!_ she thought, focusing on Ron's longish freckled covered nose. _You're Marion Fitzwalter, and this is her true love, Robin Hood! This is one of your favorite Muggle stories and now is your chance to live it a little,_ so speak! she thought.   
  
"With this ring, I thee wed," she repeated each word the Archbishop said. A wave of chills ran through her body at the sound of her own voice speaking those words.   
  
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."   
  
Hermione repeated, still unable to look into Ron's eyes for fear that she would freeze up. Why did this have to be so difficult?   
  
"For better or for worse,   
for richer or poorer,   
in sickness and in health,   
and forsaking all other keep myself only to thee for as long as we both shall live."   
  
Only one thing remained. She looked down at their hands and slowly pushed the ring onto his long finger. Hermione realized when she pushed the ring all the way onto his finger, that she had been expecting a thrill of music to play once the ring was in place. Instead, there was only a moment of silence before the Archbishop spoke again.   
  
"Then, as God is my witness, I pronounce you Man and Wife." Ron suddenly seemed to relax. He took her hand and started to turn from the Altar. The Archbishop spoke again, freezing him solid. "You may kiss the bride." 

* * *

Ginny waited with bated breath for Ron to turn back to Hermione and kiss her. _This is exactly what he needs, the big oaf,_ she thought. _Hermione too, she can be so stubborn sometimes._ Ginny was debating on whether to clear her throat as a signal to Ron that he was hesitating too long, but Ron finally moved. He turned back toward Hermione and slowly lifted her veil. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in close for the kiss.   
  
Ginny's jaw dropped. Had she really seen what she'd thought she'd seen? She shot a glance to the Archbishop as Ron turned from the alter, holding Hermione's hand. The Archbishop didn't seem to think anything was out of the ordinary. Ginny's eyes shifted quickly to where Harry was. He was obscured by Ron and Hermione, who were passing quickly by. Hermione had a look of shock on her face, but Ginny still wasn't sure what she thought had happened had actually happened. She was starting to feel the slow burn of indignation on Hermione's behalf when she finally met Harry's eyes. His face remained unreadable for a second or two. Then he raised an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth twisted upward in a smirk.   
  
It was Official. Ron had kissed Hermione _near_ the lips. He had given her a peck on the cheek. She looked up the aisle as Ron practically dragged Hermione out of the cathedral as the choir sang in the background. _If we have to do this stupid story over again because he doesn't want to play his part, I'll knock a knot in his head!_ Ginny thought as she met up with Harry in the aisle in front of the altar. They took each other's arms and headed quickly down the isle toward the large oak doors.   
  
"You think we'll have to do everything over?" Harry said as they passed through the great double doors that lead outside the cathedral.   
  
"I hope not," she said. Ginny just couldn't get over it. How _insulting_! "I can't believe he _did_ that," she said as they watched Ron helping Hermione into a carriage that was waiting in front of the cathedral. "I mean, I didn't expect him to, you know, _really_ kiss her," Ginny said aloud, still flabbergasted that Ron could be so thick. "But he could've at least pecked her on the lips." Harry shrugged and watched Ron climb in behind her.   
  
"Ron's been dreading the wedding since I first told him about it," said Harry. "In a way, I'm glad all this happened," Harry added, turning toward her. "I was getting tired of those two acting like there's nothing going on between them." Ginny felt a surge of excitement; Harry _knew_. He knew about Ron and Hermione and the fact that they were really only fooling each other.   
  
"Weddings always make me cry," said Dumbledore walking up behind them wiping the corner of his eye with a handkerchief. They all waved as the driver of the carriage jerked the reigns and whistled at the horses.   
  
"I just hope that little peck-" Harry started but then froze. "Sir, do you the book would _make_ the hero and heroine kiss, like for real?" he asked.   
  
"That is a possibility," he said. Harry and Ginny groaned in unison.   
  
"We'll _never_ get out of this book," they both said.

**Off into the sunset**

The carriage jolted and started off. Ron watched as Harry, Ginny and Dumbledore waved them off.   
  
"Oh, I'd forgotten," Hermione gasped and stood up. She put herself halfway out the window and threw her bouquet of flowers back at the mass of people outside the cathedral. Ron watched as a few women made grabs for it, sending it flying off to one side where Ginny raised her hands and caught it perfectly. He couldn't tell from that distance, but he was sure she must be blushing violently as she looked up at Harry. Hermione sat back down with a sigh and Ron sat silently, watching the scenery go by. It was over.   
  
For the first time since they'd been sucked into the book, Ron wondered why the book picked him, specifically for the part of Robin. Harry was more of the hero type. His mind wandered to the question of why Hermione had played the heroine. She wasn't a gushy romantic person. She was practical. She was business-like. She was a bookworm. She wasn't silly like Lavender or Parvati. She wasn't a hopeless and sometimes helpless romantic like Ginny. He wondered why it hadn't been Ginny and Harry.   
  
He had to admit, there was something strange about that thought. Harry and Ginny. She'd liked him since she'd first _seen_ him. Everyone thought it was just a crush, but she was still showing signs of it. It had been funny at first. However, when she looked absolutely miserable about agreeing to go to the Yule Ball with Neville, he had realized that she still liked Harry, and it hadn't been funny anymore. She had left and Ron had later overheard a few girls from Ginny's year saying that she was crying in the loo after that.   
  
He felt a little pity for his younger sister. She had a crush on Harry, and to Harry, she was just his best friend's little sister. _Or was she?_ This thought was a new one, and it wasn't welcome. Ginny liking Harry was one thing, but if he started liking her back then that would be far too weird. Ron shook off these thoughts by forcing himself to wonder why they hadn't left the book yet. In actuality, he _knew_ why, but he forced his mind to dismiss that thought. Hermione must've been thinking along the same lines, because she cleared her throat and spoke for the first time since they'd gotten into the carriage.   
  
"I can't remember anything more to the story," she said. Ron had the distinct feeling she was trying to get _him_ to suggest that he needed to kiss her on the lips. He could feel his ears getting warm as he thought up a reply. _Damn these bloody ears!_   
  
"How was it that the story ended again?" he asked, still trying to come up with a non-embarrassing way to suggest that they needed to kiss on the lips.   
  
"As I remember, Robin and Marion are married and ride off into the sunset," she said. _That's it! The sunset!_ thought Ron. He leaned out the window and looked ahead toward the setting sun, which was halfway down over the horizon. He felt his heart thud in his chest. _Maybe we don't have to kiss after all,_ he thought. They sank back into silence for the next minute or two, all the while Ron kept checking out the window, seeing the sun sinking lower and lower, until it finally disappeared under the horizon. Ron's stomach filled with lead and thoughts like "what if we can't get out," or "what if we did something wrong" fluttered through his head.   
  
"I think," said Hermione, startling Ron so badly he actually yelped. She pursed her lips a little then relaxed them and continued. "I think we need to," she paused and looked sideways out the window, her brow furrowed. Ron knew what she was going to suggest. Before he knew it, he had spoken.   
  
"I think you're right," he said. She looked back at him a little surprised at first, but she nodded quietly. They both sat there for a few seconds and then as if they'd been cued, they both leaned forward quickly. Their lips met somewhere in between. Hermione's were warm and slightly moist. As they moved apart, Ron was careful not to catch her eye. _She just wants to be friends. This whole thing is proof of that,_ he thought. He hoped they would be leaving the book soon, he could feel a slight stinging in the corners of his eyes. _She doesn't like me like that, she'd not interested._

* * *

Hermione leaned back against the soft seat as the carriage rumbled on down the bumpy road. That kiss had been better than the one he'd given her in the cathedral. But she couldn't help but think that he was going to a lot of trouble to avoid looking at her. Now more than ever, she doubted all the things she thought were so absolute last year: that Ron was jealous of Krum, that all the arguments he gave her were just to keep her attention on him. Her doubts were taking control. _He doesn't like me, he only tolerates me for Harry's sake,_ she thought, staring out the window and feeling her eyes twinge with the first signs of tears. She stared up at the ceiling, batting her eyes to fight them off. They remained silent for the next five minutes or so; all the while, the carriage was growing darker.   
  
Finally Ron spoke, his voice was somewhat fierce. "This isn't working," he said. Hermione looked down at him a little surprised to see a serious look on his face. He met her eyes and locked her with a stare for a few long seconds, then he abruptly got up and moved across the carriage to her side. He sat down right beside her, closer than he _needed_ to. She turned halfway toward him, not sure what to expect. He half turned toward her, and again, she met his eyes, and this time, from this close she could see he was resolved. She barely had time to think about it before he took a deep breath and leaned in quickly, as if he might lose his nerve.   
  
His lips were warm. A more comfortable warm than her lips had ever felt. She could feel nothing but him, smell only his familiar scent, and see only his freckled cheeks, his closed eyes and red hair less than inches from her eyes. _I should close my eyes,_ she thought, feeling her eyelids slowly descend. His lips moved slightly against hers sending exhilarating chills all over her body. She felt his hand come to rest on her arm and suddenly felt she needed to be in contact with him in more ways than just lips. She brought one of her hands up to the side of his head, lacing her fingers into the short red hair just above his very warm ear.   
  
He let his lips move a little more, and Hermione suddenly became aware that she was now following his lips. She could feel his breath coming in heavier pulls with each second, and hear her own heart pounding in her ears. Her mind was spinning in circles and the only thing that it could comprehend was that Ron was kissing her, _really_ kissing her. Hermione could feel herself being overpowered by the sensations she was feeling. The entire world had suddenly disappeared, leaving only Ron and Hermione.   
  
Ron's lips moved more freely now that she had started moving hers. A second later she felt his lips part the tiniest bit. Inhibitions out the window and reserve locked away in some dark corner of her mind, Hermione found herself parting her own lips and letting her tongue pass between them. Ron had apparently thrown his own inhibitions away as well, because the next moment, she felt his tongue venture hesitantly past her lips. She was floating on a cloud with Ron, their lips locked and their tongues engaged, and Hermione was just thinking that she could do this for hours when the world was cracked open by the sound of someone clearing his throat. It wasn't Ron.   
  
The bottom fell out of her stomach and she unceremoniously parted with Ron, feeling a wave of burning embarrassment when she realized she'd quite visibly pulled her tongue out of his mouth. She was in the brightly lit attic, sun pouring in the windows. They'd been ejected from the book. She looked up to see Harry, who was smirking widely, Ginny, who looked like she was desperately trying not to smile (and failing), Dumbledore, who had suddenly found something of great interest in one of the beams above his head, and… King Richard? Even mortified, Hermione wondered what he was doing there. He was wearing tattered light brown robes and had a wide smile on his face.

**Uncle Frank**

"Having fun?" Harry asked. Hermione could feel herself blushing horribly.   
  
"What's he doing here?" Ron croaked, pointing to Richard. Harry and Ginny turned toward him, both wearing the same look of confusion.   
  
"I believe you may be the best person to explain this, Franklin," said Dumbledore, patting him on the back. "By the way, it is very good to see you again," he added.   
  
"It's good to see you again, too, Sir. You're still looking good. Still teaching at Hogwarts?   
  
"In a manner of speaking. I am the Headmaster these days," replied Dumbledore.   
  
"Headmaster? So old Dippet finally retired then," he said, turning and passing a glance over everyone's confused faces. "I suppose I should explain a little. Shall we start with some introductions?" said the man they had known as King Richard. "My name is Frank Weasley,"   
  
"You're Frank Weasley?!" Ginny interrupted. "You're our Uncle Frank?" she said looking up at him in disbelief.   
  
"Ah, so you two _are_ Weasleys. I'd hoped you were. Oh, yes. Before I forget, I want to thank all of you. You see, I've-" he started but was interrupted by a shout from the top landing of the house. Mr. Weasley, that is, Arthur Weasley, came running up the stairs taking them two at a time.   
  
"Children! Ron! Ginny! Are you all okay? Harry, Hermi-" He froze at the top of the stairs, staring confusedly at Frank Weasley. "F-Frank?" he said, stepping toward him.   
  
"My _Lord_! Arthur!" Frank strode over to Mr. Weasley and threw his arms around him. "What happened to your hair, little brother?"   
  
"Frank, you're…" Mr. Weasley said, apparently at a loss for words. Then he looked down to the floor at the Robin Hood book. His eyes widened in surprised. "So _that's_ what happened to you all those years ago. We thought it was You-" he started, but glanced momentarily at Harry. "We thought it was Voldemort," he said without an ounce of fear in his voice, though his face tensed as he said the name.   
  
"That old coot, is he still around?" Frank said with a smile.   
  
"Er, that's a long story, actually. I'll tell you later," said Mr. Weasley. "How did you end up in that book? Just find it like the kids did?" asked Mr. Weasley. They heard footsteps coming up the stairs and a moment later Snuffles, Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, Bill and the rest of the Burrow joined them in the attic.   
  
"Oh my Lord, Frank?" Mrs. Weasley said stepping toward him.   
  
"He's been in this book all along, Molly. Right under our noses," Mr. Weasley said. Mrs. Weasley and Frank wrapped their arms around each other and embraced.   
  
"Arthur looked for any sign of you for _years_, we all thought You-, I mean, Voldemort had killed you." Mrs. Weasley looked a little fearful at having said the name.   
  
"No, just got trapped in my own creation. Er, Arthur, Molly, are these two your children?" asked Frank, pointing at Ron and Ginny.   
  
"Yes, I completely forgot. You've never seen _any_ of our children," said Mr. Weasley. "These two are our youngest, Ron and Ginny, I assumed you've met them."   
  
"Yes, but I didn't know their names," said Frank.   
  
"There's Bill, our oldest. Percy, our third oldest. Fred and George, fourth and fifth, and that's all of them except Charlie, our second oldest. He's still in Romania at the moment."   
  
"Good Lord! Seven kids? I see you two have kept _busy_," said Frank, nudging Arthur in the ribs.   
  
"Why don't we go downstairs to the kitchen where we can sit down and explain things. I'm sure Frank has missed the real world and wouldn't mind a spot of tea," said Dumbledore.   
  
They headed down to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley poured them some tea, telling Frank in almost thirty years he hadn't changed a bit, at least not his behavior.   
  
Frank explained how he had wanted to make the wizarding world's first completely interactive story book. He had gotten it almost all done and decided to test it out himself. Unfortunately, he hadn't quite got the exiting charm right and was trapped inside. He had been unable to finish because it required at least two people from the outside world. Since he had also put a time distortion charm on the book, the thirty years he'd been inside the book, equaled about one hundred and twenty years in the book's time. He said that despite his appearance, he had been feeling that old until Hermione had gotten sucked in the book.   
  
"So why weren't _you_ playing Robin Hood, if you were the first one in the book?" asked Ron.   
  
"Well Ron, I set up the book to be a sort of romantic adventure for a couple who were very strongly in love. The book casts the parts based on that. When you two fell into the book," Frank said, pointing to Ron and Hermione, "the book sensed your love for one another and cast you two in the hero and heroine parts." Hermione felt her cheeks burn and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ron turning magenta. Harry stifled a snigger and Ginny elbowed him in the side, giving him a disdainful look.   
  
"The book was built to help guide the hero and heroine through the story with as few hiccups as possible. I hope you two enjoyed it," Frank said smiling.   
  
"Enjoyed it? It nearly got us _killed_!" Ron shouted.   
  
"Yes, but what an adventure you had! And you got the chance to rescue your girlfriend, didn't you?" said Frank with a wide smile. Fred and George exploded with laughter the moment Uncle Frank had said "girlfriend". Any amount of embarrassment Hermione had felt before was suddenly a thousand times worse. Frank Weasley had called her Ron's _girlfriend_! In front of _everyone_! What would Mrs. Weasley think?   
  
"Shut up laughing, you two!" Ginny snapped at Fred and George. They both winked at each other, and quietly forced themselves to stop laughing. Hermione knew this wasn't a good thing, not in the least.

* * *

With the time distortion charm on the book, the eleven days they'd spent in the book had translated into about three days in reality. Which meant that tomorrow was the last day of August and they would make the trip to Kings Cross in the morning. For some reason, it always made Harry a little sad packing up his trunk to head off to Hogwarts. He always enjoyed his time at the Burrow and even though he _loved_ Hogwarts, he'd miss the Burrow.   
  
Hogwarts would be bittersweet this year, though. Cedric had died a little over two months ago, Voldemort had risen the same night. Harry tossed his clean school robes into his trunk, checked to make sure his Invisibility cloak was tucked in the bottom, and added the schoolbooks that Mrs. Weasley had gotten from Diagon Alley.   
  
"Reckon we won't be able to get by with _anything_ this year, Hermione being prefect and all," said Ron. Harry shrugged.   
  
"Wonder which bloke they got to be the other prefect for our year?" said Ron. Harry shrugged again Even though _he_ knew which bloke they'd gotten, he hadn't told Ron or Hermione yet. Dumbledore had personally written him a letter. He seemed to think Harry should be involved in Hogwarts business since he usually ended up involved in it anyway. Harry sighed as he tossed a stack of parchment, which included his Hogwarts letter, and the well-hidden silver prefect badge into his trunk.   
  
"Hope it isn't Seamus, it'll go to his head," said Ron. Harry dropped his quills and inkbottles into his trunk and shut the lid. "Wouldn't it be a shock if it was Neville? What's wrong, Harry?" asked Ron. Harry half turned toward him, unsure if he wanted to bring it up. Everyone's moods were so high due to Frank Weasley's return, he wasn't sure he wanted to say anything to spoil it.   
  
"It's nothing, really," he finally said.   
  
"You can tell us, you know that, don't you? Me and Hermione. You can tell us anything, Harry," said Ron. He sounded so sincere that Harry actually decided to say what was eating away at him.   
  
"In that book," he started. "We were concentrating so hard on finishing the story and getting out, I'd almost forgotten about Voldemort." Harry slumped down on the bed. "I get the feeling a lot of people are going to lose their lives this time, just like last time. There'll be a lot more Bertha Jorkins and Cedric Diggorys. There's going to be more Wormtails, selling their friends for their own skins. There's going to be new Death Eaters, maybe people we know." He looked up at Ron. "I just can't see any light at the end of the tunnel." Ron looked like he was contemplating everything Harry had just said.   
  
"It's there, mate," he said knowingly. "We might not be able to see it, but if we stick together, I'm sure we'll find it. We got out of that book, after all," he said, shutting the lid to his own trunk.   
  
Harry didn't sleep much that night, his mind went over the events from last years Triwizard Tournament, and the events from inside the book. Ron was right, as long as Harry had friends like Ron and Hermione, he could get through the narrow winding road ahead. He drifted off to sleep unsure of the future, but not quite as fearful of it.

**Epilogue**

The door to room number seventeen swung open and a couple walked in: Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley, otherwise known as Ron and Hermione. It had been a year since their wedding night, and for their first anniversary, Ron had suggested they relive their honeymoon in Hawaii. He stood outside the room carrying Hermione in his arms.   
  
"Ron, don't bump my head on the doorframe this time, okay?" Hermione said quickly.   
  
"Oh, come on, Hermione. I wanted to relive that first night. You had that knot on your head," Ron started, but was interrupted.   
  
"Which I suppose got you all hot and bothered?" Hermione asked matter-of-factly.   
  
"Actually, yes. You looked _extra_ sexy with a bag of ice on your head," he said grinning. He turned her sideways and stepped into the room, careful not to bash her head against the doorframe. "Get the lights, please, Sugar," said Ron.   
  
"You got them last time," Hermione said with a devious grin.   
  
"That's because I had to set you down 'cause you started hitting me after I bumped your head into the door frame. So, if you don't want your head bumped, then get the lights." Hermione reached back and flipped the light switch up.   
  
"Okay, put me down already, your hurting my ribs," said Hermione. Ron eased her legs down to the floor so she could stand on her own. Before he'd let her go all the way, she turned sharply toward him and gave him a deep, full kiss. They stood just inside the open doorway, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing. After about a minute they broke apart.   
  
"Getting off to a good start this year, aren't we?" said Hermione gazing into Ron's eyes. "Shut the door, unless you wanted to entertain everyone," she added as an elderly couple walk past the open door. Ron turned to close the door, and Hermione walked into the room. It was the same room they'd had the year before, though it seemed to have been refurnished. Hermione could still see the evidence of the row they'd had the third night they were there last year. There were singe marks here and there on the ceiling.   
  
She walked past the squishy bed toward the double doors that led out onto the balcony. She pulled the doors open and walked out.   
  
"Oh, look, Ron," she said, turning and leaning against the railing of the balcony. "They cut that stupid palm tree down. We've got a much better view of the ocean now." Ron had walked to the double doors and leaned out them holding on to the top of the frame.   
  
"Not interested in the beautiful view _outside_," he said with a grin. "I'm waiting for the beautiful view to come _inside_." Hermione pushed herself off from the rail, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Ron. The two of them stumbled backward until Ron fell backward on the bed pulling Hermione down with him.   
  
"Ouch! What the bloody-" Ron dug under the blankets and pulled out a package wrapped in silvery paper. "What the hell is this?" he said. Hermione took the package. She knew what it was immediately.   
  
"It's a book," she said, turning the package over. "It's for us," she added reading the name on the card taped to the underside. She pulled the card carefully off and started to open it.   
  
"Leave it," said Ron, leaning toward her to nibble on her earlobe. "We've got better things to do," he said reaching up and tugging on one of the ties to her sundress.   
  
"It's from Harry," she said recognizing his handwriting. Ron didn't seem to care, he gently tried to brush the gift away while distracting Hermione with a kiss. She kept hold of the book and brought it up away from his hands and broke the kiss. "It'll only take a minute to open it, Ron," she said standing up.   
  
"Come on, Hermione! It's just a book, Ginny probably picked it. She only gets people cookbooks or relationship books. The _bed_ isn't getting any bouncier, you know," he said thumping the mattress once. Hermione wasn't paying attention. She pulled the silvery wrapping paper off to find a tattered old book with a green cloth back cover. She flipped it over and read the title aloud.   
  
"_The tale of Robin Hood: Thief, Knave, Hero_." She looked up at Ron with her mouth hanging open. What was Harry playing at? That book had nearly gotten them all killed. She set the book down carefully, and picked up the card, which actually turned out to be a letter, and read it aloud.

_ "Dear Hermione (or Ron on the off chance that you're reading this),   
  
I trust you'll recognize the gift Ginny and I picked out for you. I say picked out, but in actuality, we'd wanted to have it ready to give to you last year. Since we still hadn't worked out the exiting charms, we couldn't give it to you then. Ginny suggested we give it to you as a one-year anniversary present as it was ultimately the catalyst for your getting together.   
  
First of all, the book doesn't work the same way it did when we first found it. Ginny, Fred, George, Uncle Frank, Sirius and I have all been working on it since our last year at Hogwarts. Blame Ginny, it was all her idea, we just thought it was a good one.   
  
We've written in all the rules of the book on the first ten pages. It's special ink, you have to have some magic in you to read it. Muggles will just see ten pages of pictures pertaining to Robin Hood.(Dudley unknowingly tested that.) I'll write the important ones here.   
  
First off, you can't get sucked in anymore. The entry charm has to be activated by a wand and by speaking the incantation, _"Olim"_. You start the book where we did six years ago. Dennis Creevey had the idea of putting a few "Save points" in the book, in case you get expelled (I'll explain in a minute) or want to leave for something, you won't have to start back at the beginning. The save point is like a little post that has a logbook that you just put your name and the time of day, (which is indicated by the clock at the post) to save. We've also placed a copy of the book there, so you can see what's coming up, or get tips on what to do next.   
  
The exiting charms are really complex, Ginny and George did most of that stuff. First off, the most simple exiting charm is just to exit on command. Which means, at any place, at any time, in any part of the story, all you have to do to get out, is shout _"Exodus,"_ and you'll be sent out of the book. There is a safety exiting charm within the book now, too. If you are about to get mortally wounded, the book will automatically kick you out. Sirius was brave enough to test that charm at least two or three dozen times. The end exiting charm is different too. You have to say _"Finite"_ for the story to end, and it only works in three places. One is in the carriage, the second one is after Robin saves Marion. (My idea, so this could be marketed to kids too. You know kids, "Kissing, erugh!")   
  
The last place you can finish the story is at Robin's castle. You don't remember this from the story when we went through it because it wasn't there. This is the adult end of the book, I suppose. There isn't much to Robin's Castle, except a really luxurious bedroom. There's also a way to skip to the end. Simply open the book from the back and say _"Olim"_. There's other stuff in the rules about the time distortion charm and character replacement and so on, but it isn't really important. I trust the two of you will enjoy it.   
  
Yours truly,   
Harry & Ginny   
  
P.S. I hope you don't mind that Ginny and I tested out Robin's Castle. The bed is really comfy. Have fun on your second honeymoon._

Hermione put the letter down on the nightstand and picked the book back up. "Sounds like fun to me," she said flipping the book over and opening the back cover. "Want to try it out?" she asked. Ron looked from her to the book and back to her again. Then a smile crept onto his face.   
  
"_Olim_!" Hermione said, feeling the book tilt toward her.   
  
The End

_A/N - This story was inspired partly by Robin Hood; Men in tights (the original title of the fic was "Ron Hood; Weasley in tights" but that sounded __too_ silly.) and by the song "Storybook love" from The Princess Bride. I was going to have the end be a song fic, but since I really don't like songfics and I was running short on time, I decided not to. I hope you've enjoyed this, it nearly drove myself mad writing it.


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